Dragon Hearts
by Darkenwood
Summary: When Merlin's magic is discovered Arthur sides with his friend, not with his father and Uther, blinded by rage and hurt,makes a terrible mistake. Arthur's friends struggle against impossible odds to save the Prince from an insane enemy.
1. A senseless quarrel

**Dragon Hearts**

A senseless quarrel

The most momentous decision in Merlin's life was made without thinking. In the blink of an eye he let his magic lash out at their attackers. The five ragged men were thrown against the nearest wall of the ancient castle ruins with horrible ferocity. Their breaking bones made a sickening sound while their swords and knifes clattered to the rocky ground. Suddenly it was very quiet.

Arthur still was where three of the attackers had pinned him down with their swords at this throat and back. Obviously shocked he stared at his companion. Merlin stared back, unmoving. The moment of truth Merlin had hoped for as well as been afraid of for more than two years held the two of them frozen in time for a very long second.

Finally Arthur pulled himself on his feet and took up his discarded sword. Merlin tensed and recoiled from him, if only a step or two. Wary of the weapon he watched Pendragon's hands until the Prince looked up and met the warlock's gaze. "So that's why you never told me. You really think that the moment I know you have magic I will take up my sword and kill you. You really think that of me." While he kept his voice even, his face betrayed him. Insult, anger and loss were plain. Actually he had never been as good at hiding his emotions as he thought he was. He sheathed his blade and turned away from Merlin. "You know" he continued over his shoulder "I am not as stupid as you think. I had some close calls too many in the last two years. I know I am not alive on natural causes alone. When I heard you talk to the Great Dragon who didn't call you 'young warlock' for nothing I had all the confirmation I needed. So I waited. I waited for you to come to me and talk to me, but no." The strong and slender hands, usually so purposeful, fumbled uselessly with the horse's bridle.

Haltingly Merlin went forward to close the gap between them. "Arthur, I….You must understand ….." The Prince jerked around as if to attack the younger man. "Oh, but I do understand. I understand perfectly. I am not your master and I am most definitely not your friend. And I never will be. I am not to be trusted. After all I am just a hare-brained puppy that forever and a day will do what Daddy says, without ever having a thought of his own, let alone an opinion. I am just the stupid brat whose arse you save from time to time. Tell me mighty warlock, is it rewarding to shuffle behind me when I play the powerful warrior while you know all the time that you could have me completely at your mercy? That you could end my life with a minor gesture of your little finger?"

Merlin was aghast at the very idea. He felt his face grow hot with anger. "You think I laugh at you? That I feel superior and have my fun at your expense? For how long…" When Arthur turned once more to the horse the enraged magician forced him to turn back. "For how long have you been thinking I laugh at you behind your back? When we were out hunting together? When we bantered and laughed together? When you taught me how to handle a weapon? Was that all a lie?" "It was you who lied to me! Every time you played the clumsy idiot, you lied to me. Every time you let me make a big show of myself, pulling you out of tight spots with my sword skills you lied to me. You have been lying to me for more than two years!" Both breathless now they stared at each other. Then, with an abrupt movement that almost ended with a kick into Merlin's face the Prince mounted his horse and took up the bridle. "Anyway, it doesn't matter any more. As of today you are relieved of all duties as my servant. You will come back to Camelot with me and after a week or so we will make up a pretext that will satisfy my father. You will go back to Ealdor and then you will simply forget to come back." Merlin felt real fear well up inside him. This wasn't going very well. "Arthur, it's not that simple. Not even you can ignore that I had to fear for my life every day since I first met you. You know your father would have me executed if he ever found out about me having magic!"

"My father, yes. Now, here's news for you, magician. _I am not my father!_ And now leave me alone, for heaven's sake." The Prince spurred his horse into a gallop towards home. The young warlock gazed after his friend until he disappeared in the forest, hoping that he would turn back. Much later he sadly collected their camping gear and the hunting weapons Arthur had left behind. He didn't touch the bodies, though. There was no doubt that King Uther would want to examine them for hints at a possible deeper motive behind their unlikely attack on the heir to Camelot's Crown that near to the Royal Castle. He packed the stuff on his horse and made out for home himself. On the ride he fleetingly cogitated since when associated Camelot Castle with the word 'home'. As assumed he met the soldiers who came to collect the bodies a few minutes after he had left the ruins. They passed him by without a word but with some curious looks.


	2. Death sentence

2. Death sentence

At Merlin's arrival in the castle yard an excited Gaius very nearly pulled the young man of his horse. "Merlin, for heaven's sake, where have you been? The Prince has been home for hours and the King is furious that he rode home alone after he had been attacked. There will be no rest for you tonight, I tell you. Come on now, Uther wants to speak to you at once."

The King they met in his spacious office had indeed lost nothing of his original wrath during his wait. "Ah, there you are, home at last. I trust your midnight oil is well and truly burned?" He gripped the intimidated young servant by the shoulder and shook him. "What did you think you were doing when you let my son ride home alone? Gaius here diagnosed a head wound and a sword cut in his shoulder! It's a two hours ride from here to the ruins. How dare you neglect your duties like that?" Merlin was completely at a loss of what to say, as long as he didn't know what Arthur had actually told his father. "Arthur wanted me to stay behind" he stammered. "That's not what my son told me. According to him you were to ride back home with him but you decided to sulk over some quarrel the two of you had had." Forcing the younger man's head up by the hair the King ranted "don't you dare lying to me my boy; there are worse things in Camelot than the stocks." Merlin swallowed hard. "I don't lie, Sire. I thought the Prince wanted me to stay behind. He said…..he said…" "What? Come on now, out with it." "He told me to leave him alone and rode off. I thought he meant that he wanted to ride back alone." "And why would he want that? You two are inseparable, everybody talks about it. What was the quarrel between you?" Merlin felt his stomach twist with fear. "I…I do not know for sure….Maybe he was angry because I didn't defend myself very well against the attackers. After all the training lessons he gave me with the sword the bandits disarmed me in an instant."

Uther let go of him. "Well then, there we are. Clumsy as always. Anyway it's for my son to punish you. But let me assure you of one thing. Should you ever, _ever_ again leave him alone in a state like that, I will have your head, is that clear?" Merlin looked down. "Yes, Sire!" he muttered. "Gaius, bring him out before I do something I might regret." The old Court Physician dragged his nephew towards the door by the collar of his jacket but Merlin once again turned to the King. "My Lord, where's Arthur? How is he?" "The _Prince_ is in his chambers and his state is no concern of yours right now. Now _get out_!"

Back in Gaius' quarters Merlin was devastated. His uncle tried his best to wrench a report of what had really happened from him, but the young warlock was in no mood to talk. Aching in soul as well as in body, he finally climbed into his bed and hid himself under the blanket. Sighing, the Court Physician left his nephew's room. "If you have a Pendragon for a friend, you have no need of enemies any more" he muttered to himself, summarizing Merlin's and Arthur's friendship as well as his own life-long acquaintance with Uther in the one sentence. He snuffed out the light and went to bed. Some three hours later the guards came to arrest Merlin under a charge of using forbidden magic.

There was no trial of any kind. The guards dragged the sleepy and confused young man into the throne room to face the unsympathetic King and the assembled courtiers. Arthur stood behind his father, face as white as chalk. Very grandly Uther informed them that one of the bandits had been found alive by the Camelot guards. Although he had died on the spot half an hour later his statement had shown that the Prince had lied to his father. Not he had fought down the attackers but Merlin had used magic to kill them. The bandit had also said that the Prince and his manservant had talked about the magical attack later, albeit the bandit had been in no state to actually comprehend any details. Receiving this report Uther had interrogated – many people flinched at the use of the word – his son immediately who had caught himself up in contradictions. The King then had found that the use of magic had been proved sufficiently. To him, this also meant that Merlin had been in league with the bandits' attempt to abduct the Prince and had only killed them when he saw the attack go wrong.

"Once again magic has been used to threaten our realm and our family…" Uther backed up for his usual 'the evil of magic' speech, but Arthur interrupted him. "Father you know that this isn't true. I told you once, I told you a hundred times that Merlin saved my life out there. Whether it was really magic neither you nor I can know for sure. You just can't…" Some people gasped with horror when Uther's hand hit his son's face with vicious force. One of the rings cut open the skin and blood trickled down the cheek. For a moment the vast throne room fell dead quiet. Then the King came for his son, gripped his chin and forced his face upward. "Quiet!" he hissed. "If you weren't my son, you would go to the stakes with him, is that clear? From what I gathered from your pathetic stammering you could have known about his magic for months. This is treason, Arthur Pendragon, you hear me? Treason, punishable by death!" He pushed his son back forcibly. "Guards! Until further notice the Prince is confined to his room. One of you is to stay with him at all times. If he resists, tie him up. There will be no further argument from him. Gag him, if you have to."

While the guards dragged him out Arthur met Merlin's terrified eyes, but all he could offer his friend was his own helplessness. Halfway out of the door he heard his father's voice once more. "Take the sorcerer down to the dungeons and make sure that he can't do any more harm until he dies tomorrow morning at dawn."

Down in the dungeons they chained Merlin to the wall and forced a strong drug potion down his throat 'to keep his magic in check'. Camelot's guards had long ago given up the ability to find it peculiar that none of the so called 'powerful sorcerers' had ever used magic to break their necks before he was effectively drugged. Their job was much easier if they left their brains back home when they went for their daily shift in the dungeons. So it didn't strike out to them that the young man they mistreated this time was too devastated and shocked to fight back until it was too late. Merlin didn't even stir when his uncle Gaius was thrown into the cell next to his 'for insolence against the King's Majesty' as one guard told the other ones pretentiously.


	3. More than one kind of treason

3. More than one kind of treason

Arthur Pendragon stood trial under a charge of High Treason but King Uther had no part in these procedures. Camelot's Crown Prince stood trial for betraying his friend. His own conscience was the most merciless prosecutor, judge and jury that could be imagined. No mitigating circumstances were accepted. Dizziness had paralysed his thoughts when he had been roughly awakened after only one hour of sleep, with Gaius' strong soporific still active in his body. But this didn't count. The head wound had caused nausea and a throbbing pain. It was of no consequence to the verdict.

He had still been upset by the quarrel with Merlin. It seemed so stupid now. To think that this idiotic fight should have been the last stage of their friendship. That Merlin should go to his grave with this base show of hurt pride and stubbornness as his last memory. No, being upset due to this idiotic fight was the most insignificant excuse of all. Fact was that Arthur Pendragon hadn't been able to make up a convincing story about what had happened in the ruins at a moment's notice, although his friend's life depended on it. Therefore the judgement was inevitable: Guilty on all charges. If Merlin would die because of Arthur's stupidity, he would never forgive himself. Nor would he ever be able to forgive his father. Everything that had made his life worthwhile would be destroyed. Guilt and apprehension were like a burning pain in his chest that made him fight for breath. He wouldn't - couldn't - let it happen. Nothing, absolutely nothing in the world was more important than this.

The young warrior forced himself to stand still by the window, although every nerve in him screamed for action. The last thing he needed now was to give the keyed up soldier who watched his every move a reason to actually tie his captive up and gag him. Moreover, if the other, elder soldiers realized that this would be the easiest way to keep them _and_ their Prince out of harm's way until it was all over they surely wouldn't hesitate. Their sense of self-preservation would be as strong an incentive as their undoubtedly strong loyalty to both Pendragons.

The night went by. Morning dawned on an apprehensive castle and still the Prince desperately searched for a solution. Time, he needed time. There had to be a way out of his room. If only he could speak to his father, make something up…. Finally he banged his fist on the window frame in frustration. The guard jumped violently and became very alert. "Sire, please. Please don't force me to…." Arthur lowered his head and raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. "No, it's all right, it's all right, I'm not doing anything, I promise. I promise."

He went to the bed and sat down, cross-legged, still showing both hands to the guard. He gave the nervous man a moment to calm down. "I only wonder…" he let his voice trail off and feigned to have a closer look at the young soldier who faced him anxiously. "Wait…Belus? It's Belus, isn't it? We had some sword training together recently, you and I, hadn't we?" The guard swallowed nervously. "Yes…yes, we had. You wanted to show one of the younger knights a special trick with the sword." Arthur beamed at him with all the charm he could muster. "Yeah, right, now I remember. You were so good at it." Seemingly excited by the memory he rose and took a few steps towards the other man. "Wasn't it like that, an upper swing and then…." but the guard carefully backed away. "I wouldn't know, My Lord. Now, please…"

Arthur let his smile fade and his hands fall, as if he had had forgotten in what situation he was and had only now remembered. Pulling his fingers through his hair he turned and went back to the bed. "I'm sorry" he muttered "I just forgot that you are here to keep me prisoner. I'm sorry." He sat down once more and buried his face in his hands. Looking furtively through his fingers he checked the young man's reaction. Belus had been that flattered when Arthur had singled him out that day on the training ground. It had meant so much to him. Good heavens, he must be tired and unnerved by now. He can't be made of stone.

With considerable relief Arthur saw an expression of guilt and sympathy come into the soldier's face. He sighed for more effect. He needed the rest of his patience to give the other man some more seconds to melt. Then he raised his head, trying his best to make his face look vulnerable and his eyes desperately pleading. Considering that the Crown Prince of Camelot had never before tried to look like an ailing spaniel the success he could read from the other's face was astonishing. "Belus, could you please do me a favour? I…I just can't stand it any more. I must speak to my father. Would you take a message to him? Right now? Please?...." Doubt clouded Belus' face and Arthur added some urgency to his voice. "I know that you can't just leave me alone, but couldn't you call in one of your comrades to guard me? Or wait.." As if the idea had only just occurred to him he rose, turned around and crossed his wrists behind his back. "You could tie me up. Really, it doesn't matter that I am your future King, not a bit. I know you have your orders...."

His hopes for an easy escape were crushed when the soldier actually gripped his wrists, tied them with a leather rope he took from his belt and tethered him to the bed post, allowing him hardly enough length of rope to sit down. Feeling awkward and embarrassed Belus was needlessly rough and his nervous hands pulled the rope tighter than it would have been necessary. Inwardly Arthur cursed the man and all of Camelot's guards to the deepest hell. Outwardly he meekly lowered his head and allowed the soldier to manhandle him. All right then, time for Plan B.

Once again he sat down and renewed his pleading stare, as if nothing had happened. "Would you please convey my most sincere apology to my father and tell him that I have to speak with him? There was something this sorcerer did that might actually confirm the King's assumption that he was in league with the bandits. The boy might know more about this attempted abduction than I originally thought. He might even know who was behind it. Please, my father must know this, before it is too late." Hesitantly, Belus nodded and made for the door. When he had left Arthur waited, but the other two guards stayed outside. As he had hoped they had no desire to be close to this situation. It was much more convenient to shift the blame for mistreating the heir to the Crown to the youngest in the team.

The mistreated heir tried the tight bonds on his wrists and cursed again. No hope there. Even if he could loosen the knots that tied him to the bed, his hands would still be bound behind his back. However, there might be an opportunity to arouse a bit more pity from a certain person, if he granted his request. _When_ he granted his son's request Arthur fervently tried to keep his hopes up. Gritting his teeth he began to pull at the bonds and tried to move his wrists inside them. As expected the rough edges of the rope cut deep into his flesh and he felt blood trickle down his wrists. Together with the bruises in his face this should make an impressive sight to add some spice to the pitiful show of remorse and submission he intended to give. "Arthur Pendragon, since when have you become so devious?" It was almost as if he could hear Morgana say it, in this unique mocking way of hers. In this moment he missed her terribly. At least she would understand perfectly why in this case even his loyalty to Uther had to be forgotten.

While he waited for his father's reaction he listened to the sounds that came from the inner court yard of the castle. They were erecting the scaffold and the pyre. It couldn't be long now before they dragged an innocent boy out to a senseless death. "Come on, Uther Pendragon, come on. Fall for it". The desperate hope filled Arthur's mind completely. Only very deep inside him, buried under the stinging pain of his guilty conscience, under the fear for his friend, the anger at his public humiliation and his resolution to _do_ something, a little boy waited for his father to take him into his arms and tell him that everything was going to be fine in the end. But the little boy was silenced resolutely. There was no time for this. Not now!


	4. Death of a warlock

4. Death of a warlock

Down in the dungeon Merlin came to, confused, nauseous and very frightened. When he looked at the tiny window high up in the wall he saw that the sun was high in the sky. That meant it was already in the early afternoon. With a jolt he remembered that this was the day of his execution. He had been sentenced to die in the morning. What had happened?

"Hey, he's awake. Inform the King." One of the guards bustled away while the other one peeped through the barred door of the cell with a satisfied smile. Merlin curled himself up against the wall as much as his chains would let him. His head ached terribly and still he couldn't concentrate on anything or hear himself think.

Half an hour later the guards dragged him out of the cell and to another, bigger room in the dungeon, where they shackled his hands tightly to a wooden post and ripped his shirt off. "Leave him be for now." Startled the young magician recognized the King's voice. His throat constricted when Uther gripped him by the hair and jerked his head back in an awkward angle. "Listen, sorcerer, I'll give you one last chance to die in peace, although you don't deserve it. Otherwise I'll have you horse-whipped and racked until the sun shines through your body. Do you understand?" Merlin quivered. "Yes." Uther pulled at his hair impatiently. "What was that? Speak up!" "Yes, I do understand." The King let go of him and stepped back. "Good. Then you can start by telling me exactly who was behind the attempt to kidnap my son!" The young captive closed his eyes and lowered his head. Was there no end to this madness? "I don't know, Sire, please, you must believe me. I only tried to protect Arthur."

The lash hit his back with bone-breaking force and he screamed while his body jerked at the bonds that tied him to the post. "Wrong answer" the maddening voice said coldly. "My son told one of his guards that you might very well know who was behind the attack, so do not try to fool me. Who ordered this attack?" Again Merlin denied any knowledge about the attack. Again and again the lash hit his back, ripped his skin open and tore flesh off the bone, until he almost fainted. After a while the King ordered the guards to stop.

"Go and fetch my son." The elderly soldier thought he had misheard the order. "The Prince, Sire? You want the Prince to come _here_? Now?" "Yes, idiot. Will you go now or shall we tie you to the post for a change?" The guard saluted the King and hurried out as fast as possible. After what seemed like an eternity he escorted Camelot's Crown Prince into the dungeon chamber. When Arthur saw Merlin hanging at the post, his face full of pain and fear he silently blessed the seasoned soldier who had told him what to expect on the way down. Inwardly praying that his self-control would not forsake him the younger Pendragon turned to face the King. "Father, what is all this about? I thought…." But Uther cut him short. "After I had sent him up to you this morning Gaius told me that your shoulder wound was bleeding again and that one of the guards had hurt your arms? He even had to go back to his infirmary for some special potions." Self-consciously Arthur looked at his bandaged wrists. "Yes, but the guard had nothing to do with it, it was my own foolishness. Father, I wanted to say…" but again he couldn't finish. Disbelievingly he felt his father's arm around his shoulder pull him into a hug. "I know my boy, I know. It may have been partly my fault, too. I should have known that this monster had cast a spell on you, that you weren't yourself when you lied to me yesterday. I am so glad that you are free of it now." His hands caressed his son's hair and tousled it softly. Arthur hadn't felt something like this in a very long time. "It's good to have you back at my side, my son. Back where you belong."

For a second the temptation was overwhelming. Arthur wanted to throw himself into his father's arms even closer and forget about everything and everyone except this man and what _he_ wanted. But then he heard Merlin's soft, anguished moan and he knew it couldn't be. Little did Uther Pendragon know that his son bid him farewell when he hugged him back with all his strength and buried his face in the older man's shoulder for a moment. Then it was over and the Prince straightened his back. "Why did you call for me, father?" Uther gestured towards Merlin. "As you were his primary victim and you saw what he did during the attack in the ruins I want you to proceed with the interrogation." In this very moment every single qualm of conscience Arthur might have had at his planned betrayal vanished into thin air. "You want _me_ to…?" "Yes. Sometimes to inflict hardship is part of a King's duty. The earlier you learn it, the better it will be." The young Prince swallowed hard. Still he could hardly believe that he had heard correctly. He couldn't believe his father would be that ignorant of any common decency. But then the idea hit him that this could be his only chance. Abruptly he went to Merlin's side and forced his head up by the chin "Small wonder that you can't get anything out of him. He's only half-conscious. I doubt that he could speak, even if he wanted to." Resolutely he went over to the water barrel which stood in a far corner of the room, fetched a cup of water and came back to roughly force the liquid down the young warlock's throat. Then he waited, obviously scrutinizing the captive's face for a sign of coming back to life. "_No_. Spit that out. Spit it out, _now_." Arthur gripped Merlin by the throat as if to stop him from swallowing something. In the same second the young warlock's body went limp.

When the guards reached him, he was already dead.


	5. A close call

5. A close call

Arthur looked horrified. "I could feel that he tried to swallow something together with the water I gave him" he stammered. "I tried to force him to spit it out but it was too late. I couldn't…. I couldn't….Oh, my Gods. I killed him. I killed the poor boy."

"He never was a mere boy. He was a sorcerer, a monster, nothing else. Never again you will call him anything else, you hear me? Never!"

Arthur seemed to shrink under his father's renewed wrath. Avoiding Uther's once again angry stare he nodded and went backwards until his back met the wall. Now his face was hidden by the shadows of the flickering lights. There the otherwise so proud and gallant Prince trembled slightly while he watched the guards take Merlin's body from the post and lower the corpse to the ground.

"What shall we do with the body, Sire? The pyre isn't there any more. Shall we bury him somewhere outside?"

Arthur didn't breathe while he waited for the King's answer. Uther pondered the question. "No. Bring the body to Gaius, maybe he can find out what he used to kill himself. It would give us an advantage next time we interrogate a sorcerer."

He turned to leave but Arthur stopped him. "Father, you can't do this to Gaius. Merlin has been like a son for him. No matter what the sorcerer did, the old man won't survive this."

"Arthur I will not tolerate your foolish behaviour any longer. Now _you_ will bring the body to Gaius and _you_ will explain what happened here and what _you_ have done. You will stay there and supervise the post-mortem until I call for you. Now is that understood?" His son gulped down a cutting response, looked once more at his feet and nodded. "Good. Now go!" Obediently Arthur lifted the corpse up in his arms and hurried away.

The young Pendragon left the dungeons but turned away from the corridor that led to the court yard and Gaius' chamber. Instead he opened one of the servant's doors in the wall and ran down the rarely used, steep stair that had once connected kitchen and main castle. Now it led to some neglected storage rooms. As soon as he reached the first one, he took Merlin inside and closed the door. In the dim light which filtered through the single dirt smeared window the young Prince pulled off his shirt, laid it on the dusty floor and rested the body upon it. He started to fumble with the bandage on his left wrist, cursing under his breath with bitter force. Finally he managed to pull a small phial out. With a sigh of relief he opened it, forced Merlin's teeth apart and poured the content into his mouth and throat.

It was with rare joy that he watched his servant come to life a second later, spluttering and spitting for all he was worth. Arthur hugged Merlin to his chest, partly for the relief he felt, partly to keep the young warlock quiet. "Merlin, for the Gods' sake be still or you'll get us both killed."

Like claws Merlin's hands dug deep into the Pendragon's shoulders while he fought for breath. Finally the frantic heartbeat slowed down. When he let go, his fingers had left bloody scratches on the exposed skin. Feeling dizzy and confused he met Arthur's intent gaze and tentative smile. "You're all right?"

Merlin shook his head and winced at the pain this caused. "No, I am not. My back…" he started to say then the memory of what had happened hit him with full force. The black of his pupils seemed to swallow the blue of his eyes. "You killed me" he stammered. "Why did you kill me?"

Arthur would have liked to laugh and cry at the same time. Instead he snorted softly and whispered "Don't you get it? I killed you because it was the only way to save your life!"

Still uncomprehending Merlin frowned. Then for the first time he seemed to take in their surroundings. "Where are we? What are _you_ doing here? What…?"

Softly the Prince pressed his hand on the magician's mouth. "Sshhhh. If somebody hears us you'd better _be_ dead, I assure you."

"Why would you…." Merlin insisted as muffled as stubborn but an exasperated Pendragon interrupted him. "Merlin, I promise I'll explain everything later, but right now it's imperative that we get out of here. We could use some of your magic for that. We must make it to the stables and get some horses to leave the castle without being seen. Now what would you suggest?"

Looking into Arthur's trusting and expectant face Merlin thought that he would like to faint again. He felt with utter certainty that he wouldn't be able to use his magic for some time. The effects of yesterday's sedative, the new poison the Prince had given him as well as pain and exhaustion from the torture effectively blocked his magic abilities, most probably for several hours at least. He bit his lip and slightly shook his head.

Understanding, then apprehension dawned on Arthur's face. "You mean, you can't use your magic to bring us out of here?" He paled visibly and even through all his pain and tiredness Merlin realized that his royal friend for once was genuinely scared.

Now feeling even more faint hearted himself the badly injured magician touched the other's arm haltingly. "Arthur, back in the dungeons….. I mean, while I was shackled to the pole, I…. I saw you with your father. He had clearly forgiven you. You should go to him, now, before it is too late. I do not know how you got hold of my body in the first place, but couldn't you just leave me here? When I am recovered I'll make my own escape, I promise."

Hell bent on showing his friend that he could manage perfectly well without him, Merlin pulled his legs under his body and tried to get up. Hot fire seemed to race through his body. His head felt as if it were torn apart when the injuries on his back protested and his brain proved beyond all doubt that the unwholesome mixture of drugs was still active in his veins and nerves. With herculean effort the young man stifled a cry when he sank back. Arthur caught him just before he hit the ground.

Pendragon held him there for a moment, not knowing what to do. Then his instincts as a military leader took over. His father had trained him much too thoroughly to ever admit defeat in front of one of his men. "Well," he said softly but resolutely "that's that then. You are not going anywhere any time soon. Seems we are going to see Gaius after all, exactly as my father ordered. Do you think you can play dead for a little while longer? While I carry you over to the old man?"

Suddenly Merlin didn't care any more. The mentioning of Gaius had brought images into his tired brain, of his bed, Gaius' care, of security, warmth and sleep. Without thinking he cuddled up to Arthur, softly muttering something unintelligible under his breath, and drifted out of consciousness again.

The Prince felt the body in his arms go limp but he could see the pulse in the soft flesh of the throat beating steadily. "Well, I'll take that as a 'yes'." He somehow managed to pull on his shirt without letting Merlin's bruised torso slip to the dirty floor. Then he lifted his friend once more and headed for the old physician's quarters, silently praying as he had rarely done before that his father would not call for him or already had checked up on him before he reached Gaius' chamber. Unfortunately he hoped in vain. On his arrival in the old man's rooms the elderly soldier who had escorted Arthur down to the dungeons was already waiting for him.

The Prince tried his best to allay all suspicions the man might have. "Could you please help me? Clear the examination table for me to lay him down, will you?" Obviously panting he laid Merlin down and at once pulled a sheet over the body before he turned away from the table. "He's heavier than one might think. I had to put him down for a few moments on my way here. Where's Gaius?"

The guard looked him over thoughtfully. Then he pointed to Merlin's chamber door with his chin. "In the boy's room. I think he needed a moment to calm down."

Arthur reached for a water canteen on the table. Without ever giving up his position between the man and the table with the body he drank in long sips until the soldier's voice startled him. "I wasn't aware that the dungeons or the stairs are _that_ dusty. Your Highness is virtually covered in dust. And the bandages on your wrists are torn."

With his guts twisting and his throat grow tight the Prince tried to make as light of it as possible. "Must have happened when I laid the body down in a corner of the court yard. Maybe you could fetch me some pants and a shirt from my room? As I am not allowed to leave here anytime soon?" Once more the soldier looked thoughtfully at the covered body on the table. Inwardly Arthur trembled with fear that Merlin might choose this very moment to wake up and stir. When the soldier looked back at his Prince, Arthur tried to return the gaze as innocently as possible. To his astonishment he saw something like a soft smile appear in the seasoned soldiers face. "Actually His Majesty has sent me here to tell you that I could escort you back to your room should you so wish. He no longer insists on Your Highness paying witness to the post mortem."

In his mind Arthur cursed the man, his father and all ill-timed kindnesses in this world to oblivion but he found no fitting answer. With utter relief he heard the man proceed. "Of course the King wouldn't be averse to have your first-hand report on the post mortem's results. His Majesty is with the Council right now but perhaps I could tell him that you would like to dine with him tonight, in private?"

"Yes. Yes. That's a very good idea. Please convey my regards to my father and that I would much appreciate his permission to dine with him later tonight."

The soldier bowed and headed for the door. But then he turned back. "Sire, may I add something?" The Prince simply nodded, desperately pricking up his ears for a sound from the table in his back. "My comrades and I, especially Belus, beg your forgiveness for any inconvenience we caused you. For a moment we all thought that you might seriously consider running away together with the sorcerer. It would be a bleak day if you were to leave us, without a chance to ever be reconciled with your father. Camelot wouldn't be the same without you. It would crush your father's heart and we all would feel the consequences."

Pendragon swallowed hard before he could manage a reply. "I …thank you for your loyalty. And please tell Belus that he only did his duty. I know that." "My Lord!" the man bowed again and left.


	6. The friendship of a Pendragon

6. The friendship of a Pendragon

As soon as Gaius heard the outer door open and close again he hurried out into the main room of his quarters, only to find Arthur bent over as if he felt sick. "Sire? Sire, what is it?" For a moment concern for the young man whom he had helped to bring up overlaid even Gaius' worries over Merlin's fate. The Prince felt the old man touch his arm and straightened his back. "It's nothing, Gaius, really. It's just that I could have done without this special conversation right now."

Bewildered Gaius opened his mouth to inquire after the meaning of those words but Merlin chose this exact moment to kick his left foot against the table edge. Both men virtually jumped to the young warlock's bedside, or, rather, table side. Gaius removed the sheet and smiled his most radiant smile, seemingly oblivious to Merlin's injuries for sheer joy that the boy was alive. "Merlin, my dear boy, I knew you aren't dead, it couldn't be." Then he turned to Arthur and looked at his wrists. "You gave _him_ the potion? And then the antidote?"

"Yes. I know that_ I _was meant to take the potion, as I did when we had to save my father from his so called Queen. But when I saw Merlin in the torture chamber I knew that this had been a hare-brained scheme from the start. My father would never have yielded, never."

Gaius' face fell and he looked at his nephew. For the first time he realized the state Merlin was in. "Torture chamber?"

Arthur blushed with shame. "Yes. Seems I got more than I bargained for when I sent Belus to my father with the news that Merlin might have some vital intelligence. I bought him time _and_ a less than pleasant afternoon at the whipping pole."

Merlin's weak voice cut him short. "Would you please stop talking as if I wasn't here?"

Gaius had finished rummaging about his stuff. "You will wish that you weren't here once I start to work on your back."

Arthur helped the old man to turn Merlin to lie on his belly. The physician cleaned the awful cuts and bruises, then he applied an herbal ointment. Before it took away the pain it stung like hell and the magician gritted his teeth, desperately wishing for his magic to come back. No self-healing spell could be worse than that. To distract himself he decided to be obstinate. "Would anybody care to explain the great plan to me?"

Arthur sighed. "As I said, it was a stupid idea from the start. I found no way to escape from my room so I had to buy you some more time. I let my father know that you might know who was behind this attempted abduction. I thought he would postpone the execution…"

"what he did" Merlin chimed in ….

"and speak to me before he proceeded any further" a slightly irritated Arthur continued.

"This he obviously did not" Merlin added.

"No, he didn't…. Arthur started to say but couldn't finish his sentence as they heard someone approaching the door. Hastily Gaius covered Merlin once again with the sheet, purposefully throwing the bloodied cloths he had used to clean the wounds on the smaller table at his side. When the door opened the returning soldier saw the physician with his back to the door, obviously working at the corpse's neck or head, with Arthur standing a step away from the examination table. The scene wasn't especially inviting and so the soldier decided to make his stay a brief one. He just told the Prince that King Uther wished his son to join him for a private dinner two hours after sunset this evening. Arthur acknowledged the message and the soldier hurried out, not without a sympathetic look at the young Pendragon's pale face.

After the man had left all three of them began to breathe again. Gaius looked at Arthur. "Sire, I suggest you go back to your room to wash and change. You should rest a while before you meet with your father. Merlin and I can take it from here."

Arthur looked from the old physician to Merlin and back again. "Are you mad? You can't manage Merlin's escape alone and should he be found here you both will go to the scaffold."

Gaius shook his head violently. "Arthur, you can't go further. You have already gone too far for my taste. After what Uther did to you in the throne room yesterday I would fear for you if your father ever found out that you helped us. Do you think Merlin and I would like the thought of you being locked up in a dungeon for the Gods know how long? Or worse?"

Arthur took both of Gaius excited hands in his and silenced the old man. "Gaius, I am afraid I _am_ in it over my neck already. Or do you have any idea how I should explain Merlin's sudden resurrection after I have presumably seen him die, right in front of my father's eyes? It was me who brought him here, remember? And I am supposed to have watched you perform a post mortem on him."

When Gaius tried to object he was confronted with Arthur's best performance of regal authority. "No, listen to me. I said, listen to me, both of you. I will dine with my father as planned and I will tell him that you, Gaius, have my permission to bury Merlin somewhere outside the castle walls at midnight. You will take Merlin's horse to carry the body and another one for yourself from my stables. I will give the necessary orders in advance. You can't pack many provisions without arousing suspicion, so you will pack only some bread, dried fruit and dried meat for Merlin's stay in the forest. There's still a saddlebag with our 'emergency rations' in the stables, Merlin knows where. The two of you will go to the lake, to our favourite campsite; Merlin can tell you how to find it. You will dig a convincing grave, stay a while and return to Camelot on foot. You will tell the guards that the horses were spooked on the way back. Yours has thrown you and both ran off, understood?" Gaius nodded. "Good. Tomorrow in the late morning you will go to your friend Locustos' house in the lower city. If somebody should be nosy you will tell them that I gave you permission to leave the castle for a week, to get over things."

Arthur turned towards the young warlock. "Merlin, now it's your turn. I know it will be hard to lie low in the brushwood in your state but there's nothing for it. You'll go to the little clearing we once found not too far away from the campsite. There you can keep the horses on a long tether, they can eat grass for the time being. Do you think you can do it, in spite of your injuries?"

Merlin, who felt confident that his magic would have returned to him long before that, nodded. Arthur smiled at him. "I knew you're much tougher than you look. Well, then. The day after tomorrow, in the early morning, I will go for a ride alone, to clear my head as well as to look for the horses. No hunting gear, no obvious provisions and only my sword and knife. I will tell everybody that I will be back in the evening. The three of us will meet at the campsite by the lake and we will try to be as far away from the castle as possible when the alarm bell is rung. Hopefully my father will think that the kidnappers launched a second attack and have been successful this time. This way he wouldn't look for Gaius before the week is over. Is everything clear?"

Gaius shook his head once more. "You can't burden your escape with me. Even Merlin is a more accomplished rider than I am."

The Prince snorted exasperatedly . "Gaius, don't you see that my father is bound to become suspicious of you in the end? You saw what he did for you when this damned witch finder singled you out as his victim. Nothing. Nothing at all. This time _he_ himself will go for your head. Only yesterday he had you thrown into the dungeon when you tried to talk some sense into him on Merlin's behalf. If it hadn't been for my injuries you'd still be there. You must come with us." He looked intently from one to the other. "Well, then, you have your orders. I rely on you both. Don't disappoint me." He turned to leave.

Although Gaius hated to spoil so perfect an exit he called him back. "Sire, aren't you forgetting something?" At Arthur's puzzled look he pointedly gestured first at the torn bandages at the Prince's wrists, then at a small but fresh speck of blood on his shoulder blade. "If you meet with your father without having your bruises thoroughly tended to, Uther will have my head _tonight_. And not even I would blame him."

As always Arthur played the stoic hero but when the torn bandages came off even Merlin, who had enough pain in his own body to occupy his thoughts, hissed at the sight of the angered cuts and bruises. "I do not know why I troubled myself to clean these wounds in the first place" Gaius muttered to himself. Nevertheless he cleaned them again with alcohol, applied one of his salves and bandaged the wrists and shoulder once more. He examined the small but thoroughly discoloured, swollen spot at the young man's temple and tut-tutted. "I do not like the look of this, Arthur, especially not as your father's blow hit the same side. You'll better take all the rest you can get or _we'll_ have to manage _your_ escape, My Lord."

Arthur grinned. "That would be the day." He made a small show of hopping from the table and left.

When the door had closed behind the Prince, Gaius sighed and turned to Merlin once more. "Now, how do _you_ feel? Can you move? You would rest more comfortably on your bed."

The injured warlock had trouble not to scream when his uncle helped him walk to his room. Once he had his shaking nephew rested on his bed, Gaius sat down beside him. "Would you like something to eat, my boy? You should stuff yourself as best you can before we lay you to rest in the forest tonight." The old man smiled at the troubled young face, gently stroking the sweaty black hair out of the weary eyes.

Merlin denied the offer with a weak shake of his head. He didn't feel like eating. The mere thought turned his stomach. "Then let me at least give you a mild sleeping potion. You should rest a while before we go. I fear as a corpse you'll be hard put to find a comfortable position on horseback."

When Gaius rose, Merlin caught his wrist. "Wait, please. Why did Arthur originally intend to take the poison himself?" Gaius sighed. "The idea was that I should tell Uther that only your magic could save Arthur's life. He calculated that once you saved his son right in front of his eyes, the King could be persuaded to spare your life in turn."

Merlin's eyes widened. "You mean the stupid prat planned to take himself hostage for my life? What if Uther had taken too long to think? If the antidote isn't applied in 30 minutes death is inevitable." Growing agitated the sorcerer actually tried to sit up before his lacerated back stopped him.

The old physician caught him and laid him down once more. "We had not much time to think of something better. Besides, we weren't alone. This overzealous Belus watched Arthur's every move and word. It was only when he said that he wished for an easy way out of this situation, like it had been with the Lady Catriona, I gathered that he wanted me to give him the potion and the antidote. I went back here to collect them and we managed to hide the two phials in the bandages around his wrists without Belus seeing anything."

Merlin gazed at his uncle's flushed face. "How could you allow him to do such a thing?" Gaius avoided the young man's inquiring eyes. "Because I wanted to save your life at any costs. You don't know what you mean to me, do you? I mean, as much as I love him, if I had to choose between you and Arthur...." abruptly he rose and turned away but Merlin stopped him once more.

"Forgive me, Gaius" he said contritely. "I shouldn't have said that. It's only the thought that he should go as far as that to help me...., somehow it hurts. It turns the table between us. I mean I have become used to the thought that it is _my_ destiny to protect _him_. And now... I feel weak.., insignificant."

Gaius turned back to him, astonished. "Was _that_ what the two of you quarrelled about back in the ruins? What is superior? Magic or sword?" Merlin blushed and nodded. "Oh, Merlin, how could you? You know Arthur's stubborn Pendragon pride. All his life he had to work and train for his outstanding skill with the sword. At least for a moment he must have almost hated you. No wonder he talked only nonsense when his father turned the screw on him."

Merlin nodded doggedly. "And no wonder he is so eager to risk his hide for me now. You do not really intend to go through with this latest hare brained scheme of his, do you? The plan has more holes in it than this foreign cheese we once had for dinner. And every single hole can bring the three of us to the scaffold. If a quick death is what Uther would have in mind for a son who betrayed him."

The old physician frowned. "Now you exaggerate. I can't believe that Uther would really be capable to hurt his own child, no matter what."

Merlin let his head fall back on the pillow and gazed at the ceiling. "Gaius, you haven't seen the two of them together, down there in the torture chamber. The last time I saw this expression on Uther's face he had prepared himself to die in Arthur's place. He hugged him as if his life depended on Arthur being near to him. Should he ever learn that his son planned to betray all his trust and love even in this very moment..... I think there's no limit to what he could do."

Gaius rose his hands in a helpless gesture. "You heard our young royal friend. He's as stubborn as his father once he has set his mind on something. _He _will pull this through no matter what any of us says or thinks." Merlin looked thoughtfully. "Then _we_ would have to take care that there's no need for him to save us, wouldn't we?"

The old man once more caressed his nephew's cheek. "And how do you think you could accomplish that, my boy? In your state? Even if you were to give yourself up to Uther, the King would learn that his son has defrauded him already." He sighed. "I do not like it any more than you do, but I see no alternative to Arthur's plan." Merlin smiled at him. "Perhaps you are right. Would you leave me alone now? I think I take your offer and have a little nap before we have to go. However..." he stopped Gaius once more from bustling out "I do not need a sleeping potion." "You're sure about that?" "Yes, very sure."

Alone at last, the young magician lay very still. He focused all his remaining strength on his magic until, after what seemed to be an eternity, he felt the familiar warm and comforting feeling stir in him. It became stronger and stronger and finally he felt it flow through him as it had done since the day of his birth. Neglecting pain, fear and anger he tried to concentrate on one very important task. When he felt that he had been successful he sighed with relief and exhaustion. His last vigour he invested in a weak self-healing spell for his back before he fell into a death like sleep. The rest of the night confirmed that Merlin's strategy had tallied. He managed to play the corpse on horseback without screaming or wriggling, albeit it was a miracle in itself given the still awful state of his back. On their arrival at the lake campsite the Druids were already waiting to take the two of them to one of their hidden villages, to an at least preliminary safety.

The young magician was that proud of himself that he actually became somewhat grand when he silenced his uncle's doubts quite en passant. Yes, he was sure that this was the best way. Yes, naturally Arthur would come looking for them as planned but he wouldn't find them, would he. And when he didn't find neither them nor any traces, he would just go back home and nobody would be the wiser. Especially not Uther Pendragon and that was the most important thing of all, wasn't it? One could surely send a message to Arthur later, to keep him from worrying, but for now, one had to GO!

And so it happened that, while Arthur was worried sick about the two of them during a night, a day and another night, they had left Camelot's walls far behind them without him.


	7. Fiasco

7. Fiasco

Arthur could hardly believe it himself. Everything went smoothly. He had told his father that he would ride out and that he would be back in the evening. Miraculously Uther hadn't even asked who was to accompany him.

Another miracle had been that the Prince had been able to take some provisions from the kitchen without anyone noticing how much he actually took. A fat purse with gold coins from a transaction he had lately closed for his father had been still in his rooms and was now securely hidden in his small knapsack. As if he had known that he would need the money he had postponed its deliverance to the treasurer for registration in the account books. Now it wouldn't be missed, even if his rooms were searched. Hopefully this would make the "kidnapping theory" he relied upon for a maximum head start all the more convincing.

The Prince silenced his guilty conscience by assuring himself that he could easily compensate for the loss to the treasury when he came back to Camelot after he had brought his two friends to safety. For everything else his imagination stopped at his return to Camelot's main gates. He didn't dare to think beyond this moment. It hurt too much that even he himself thought his father would be capable to completely lose control of his actions. Nevertheless, _that_ he would go back to face the King's wrath was beyond any dispute, at least to Arthur. He knew it might be hard to convince his friends. But in the end he would.

After all, he had even been able to convince Guinivere that this was the only suitable course of action. Arthur smiled softly at the memory of his last talk with her. After the dinner with his father he had visited her in her house where she lived most of the time, now that Morgana was no longer in the castle. Usually he made it a point never to visit her there, especially not at night, but this evening had been an exception. He had needed some assurance that what he was going to do was right. To face Uther over dinner, knowing that he was going to hoodwink the man, had been an ordeal. Arthur had always been completely honest with his father. Only now, with his friends' lives literally at stake, he had taken refuge to lies and subterfuge. But this base, shabby situation would end once and for all as soon as he was back. Cuddled to each other in a hidden corner of Guinivere's home they had talked it all through. She had been that relieved that Merlin was alive and would be safe. Arthur actually had felt a little bit jealous. Guinivere had laughed at that and teased him and all the tension that had been bottled up inside him had vanished for a few precious moments. The young man's face softened as he remembered what they had done afterwards. There would never be another woman for him, no matter what Uther had to say about this!

He gripped his sword and knife and sheathed them at his side. It felt strange and unfamiliar to do all these things himself, after Merlin had cared for everything during the last two years. Arthur grinned to himself. Merlin had done these things, but only after Arthur had told him what to do at least twice.

Reaching for his coat he looked back at his room for something he might have forgotten. Suddenly a shudder ran down his spine. Who should know when he would see this room again? _If_ he was to see it again. He shook it off resolutely. Of course he would be back soon, it would take two or three months at most. He banged the door shut behind him and smiled at the young servant who passed him by in the corridor. Buoyantly he went to the stables, mounted his horse and rode out.

He reached the agreed meeting point and looked for his friends but couldn't find them. With increasing anxiety he searched the spot for traces of Merlin and Gaius, then he went to the clearing where Merlin had been supposed to lie low and keep the horses hidden. No trace of a camp or the horses. Back at the campsite he finally found some tracks of two horses and some imprints of soft boots, the sort a trapper or Druid would wear but they led nowhere. Consternated the young Pendragon turned his horse towards the lower city to check up on Locustos' house, when a crossbow's arrow missed him by mere centimetres and hit a tree in front of him. He darted around and saw Belus leave the shelter of the trees on horseback. Now other soldiers of the Camelot Guard followed, forming an almost perfect circle around the young man. Arthur was completely surrounded.

"The game is up, My Lord. At King Uther's command you are arrested. Surrender your sword." A guard soldier rode towards the stunned Prince. Arthur realized that his father hadn't sent his knights to arrest him, but lower ranking soldiers of his personal guard. The reason for this was obvious. Arthur had been the knights' Commander for several years now but these soldiers were loyal to Uther alone. Suddenly all his earlier confidence and trust in his ability to reason with his father left him. Now everything would start all over again. They would hurt Merlin even more before they would finally kill him. They would drag old Gaius to the pyre once more. They would torture the old man, like they had done before at this damned witch finder's command. With rare clarity the young man realized that whatever punishment his father would conjure up for him would inevitably start with witnessing the executions.

Without thinking Arthur drew his sword and spurred his horse. Like he had done a hundred times before the powerful stallion sprang forward, adding his strength to his master's sword skills. Quick as lightning the blade cut through the soft tissue of Belus' thigh while the strong battle horse pushed the lighter mare aside. Two other soldiers came for the Prince. Arthur acted on pure instinct. Thrust, cut and parry and thrust again. He didn't even notice that he unsaddled one of his attackers and badly maimed the other's sword arm. Both horses ran into the others who tried to close up to their target. For a brief moment the whole detail came into total confusion while Arthur' horse jumped the small trees that blocked the way between campsite and forest trail. The Prince had reached the trail and headed away from Camelot castle at top speed when he heard a frantic warning shout. "Are you mad? Don't shoot!"

The horse missed a step in full speed and fell down. His rider was thrown over the stallion's neck and crashed to the ground. When the horrified soldiers reached him, the stallion was dead, the arrow still in his heart. Arthur Pendragon lay a few steps away, bleeding heavily from a gaping wound in his scalp, one of his arms twisted in an awkward angle. Whatever the intimidated soldiers tried, they couldn't wake him up. Not even the pain of one of the soldiers relocating his displaced shoulder made the young man stir.

Finally they improvised a stretcher and brought him back home, together with the three soldiers he had wounded.

Every single one of them dreaded Uther's reaction to this fiasco. Every single misgiving proved to be true.

The King's wrath was as intimidating as it was cold. No loud words, no shouting. Only one carefully calculated order after another. The soldier who had fired the unfortunate arrow was executed on the next day. The whole unit was demoted and every single man was publicly flogged, twenty lashes each. The wounded men were spared only to be flogged later, after their recovery. When the man with the wounded arm died some days later he had to be buried at night, in an unnamed grave outside the burial ground. No one was allowed to attend the funeral.

Arthur saw and heard nothing of this. Still unconscious he lay in an otherwise unused garret in one of the main castle's outhouses. In the King's eyes the room had the priceless advantage of having barred windows, a heavy door and an easily controllable access. The physician who had been called in from one of Camelot's great estates dreaded the abidance in the prison-like room from the start but he wasn't stupid enough to mention anything of this to the King.

Uther never saw his son, but inquired after his state of health daily. After a few days without positive news the badgered healer had other and more dreadful things to think about than the room's depressing atmosphere. It took the frightened physician many days before he could tell the King that his son had regained consciousness but was still very weak. The amnesia that had shown itself was hopefully only temporary. In his relief the wretched man started to babble. "At first I was utterly terrified by the Prince's head injuries. The more so as I could see that someone had badly beaten him before, there were swellings on his temple and in his face..."

Seeing the change in Uther's face he almost bit off his tongue. "If you want to be paid for your efforts in gold instead in lashes as you deserve you better stop rambling. Will the Prince recover or not?"

The terrified healer bowed again, as if he wanted to dust the floor with his hair. "I feel confident that Prince Arthur will make a full recovery, given ample time that is...." In truth he felt nothing of the kind but he worshiped his life far too much to tell the enraged King that there was still a very good chance that his only son would die of the ramifications of an arrest his father had ordered.

In the end it took many weeks before the unfortunate physician could finally respire. The young man had come through, if just barely. From this day on Arthur was definitely on the mend. His iron constitution proved to be stronger than his injuries, although the healer had to admit that the recovery significantly sped up after he had told his patient that there had been no executions of men named Merlin or Gaius and that to his best knowledge neither the one nor the other was to be found in the castle.

When the day finally came that he could collect his handsome wages and go home he blessed all Gods he could think of while he made haste to leave the castle for good. Years later he would tell everyone that never again he had been in a place of such gloom. "As if everybody was crawling in the dust for fear and apprehension" he would say and roll his eyes. His own servility he would conveniently forget. He would also forget some other things.

The moment he had taken his leave of his young patient the King's visit had been announced and at least at the time the healer had thought that he would never forget the expression in the young man's face. Had it been fear, relief or a deeply rooted grudge that had, only for a moment, turned Arthur Pendragon into a splitting image of his father?


	8. Dragons' fight

8. Dragons' fight

By then Arthur knew what had happened to the unfortunate soldiers who had arrested him. It hadn't escaped his attention either that the garret door had always been locked. From the reactions of the physician and the few servants who had entered the room he knew that his father had given order not to speak to him unless it was absolutely necessary to fulfil a task. Besides the physician's fearful whispers about Merlin and Gaius Arthur hadn't heard heard a single kind or sympathetic word during the three months he had been kept in the Spartan room. There had been the healer's impersonal inquiries after his physical condition. "Yes, Sire. No, Sire." Until the mere use of his title had been almost enough to drive him mad. Once he had heard Leon's voice outside, demanding access. The guard soldier's rudeness when he commanded Camelot's Head Knight to clear off had been more telling than any direct message Arthur could have received from his father.

After that the young Pendragon had been too proud to ask for permission to see anyone. Besides, he feared for anyone close to him to suffer from Uther's wrath. The King had always known how to get under his son's skin. And he had never been choosy in his methods, even if this meant to punish someone else in Arthur's place, playing on the Prince's easily pricked conscience and sense of loyalty. Uther was clear sighted when it came to his son's affections and dislikes. Now the young man prayed silently that his father wouldn't put two and two together and take it out on Guinivere.

For himself, he hadn't much hope left. He knew now how it was going to be. While Uther clearly didn't want his son dead he wouldn't let him go free either. Many a night during his recovery the young man had stared at the garret's ceiling wondering how long he would be able to withstand the pressure before he would beg. Before he would crawl to his father for forgiveness. Every single moment of these nights he had known that his father was pondering exactly the same question.

The two Pendragons weren't the only ones who thought about that. Once safely out of earshot the courtiers talked agitatedly about what they called the "Dragons' Fight". Knowing father _and _son they knew that this would be a duel between two similarly stubborn, proud and determined minds who both had decided that there were more important things in the world than the love and respect they felt for each other. However the two duellists were unevenly matched, with the young dragon at the receiving end and the old beast being in the position to dole out whatever hardship he saw fit. There weren't many who believed that the King would spare anything or anybody when it came to breaking his son's will. Camelot waited with baited breath for the sword to fall.

It was indeed a mixture of fear, relief and cold fury Arthur felt when the King was announced. The Prince had barely time to say goodbye to the physician before Uther entered the room with two guards who posted themselves at both sides of the door.

The elder Pendragon scrutinized his son quietly for a moment. The young man had lost weight during his prolonged illness as well as some of his muscles. The blue eyes that returned the King's stare with, for once, well feigned indifference seemed unusually large in the thin face. With a silent jolt Uther saw that the cut of his ring had actually left a small scar in the smooth skin. The scar of the head wound from the horse's fall he knew to be there, too, but it was hidden under the blond hair.

"I take it you are fully recovered?" Arthur answered in the same mater-of-fact tone "Yes, Sire." Uther turned to the guards. "Leave us. Wait outside!" The soldiers turned to leave but the Prince's cutting voice made them stop. "Are you sure you can deal with me without their support, Your Grace? Wouldn't it be better if your prisoner were at least restrained?"

Not for the life of his the King would have admitted that this blow had hit home with some ferocity. "If you think that's necessary. Guards, tie him up." The soldiers approached the young man hesitatingly but Uther spurred them. "Go on with it, there's no need to be squeamish with him."

It took Arthur some strength to stay calm when he felt the soldiers' hands on his body. Once again ropes chafed his skin at his father's orders and he felt sick with anger and humiliation when one of the guards dragged him back to tie the rope to a hook in the wall. "Out!" the King ordered once again and they took to their heels.

Uther faced his son's defiant gaze once more. Arthur tried uselessly to shy away when the older Pendragon actually gripped his arms to check the bonds, then pushed the wrists away as if he were disgusted by their touch. The gesture hurt more than the ropes. Satisfied that he had got his revenge the King stepped back.

"I wanted you to know that I've made up my mind on how to punish you. We have sufficient evidence to convict you for High Treason. The so called grave we found at the lake was empty. The sorcerer and his helpmate have escaped, undoubtedly with your help, after you had saved the magician's worthless life in the first place. We found money in your bag which by right belongs to the treasury. Obviously you intended to follow the rogues. Thereby you added desertion and theft to your treachery. Do you deny any of this?"

Arthur shook his head. "I don't" he said softly. "I only deny that Merlin's life is worthless. And Gaius has been your most loyal and trusting friend for many years. Do _you_ deny _that_?"

He gasped when his head was pressed against the wall by his father's hand put roughly over his mouth. "You are the last man on earth who could lecture me on loyalty. You embraced me; you begged my forgiveness this day. When we had dinner together a more obedient, caring and loyal son was unimaginable and all the time…" he pressed even harder "all the time you were planning to betray me, _**me**_, your father and your King, for the sake of this worthless scum. How could you humiliate me like that? How could…."

When Uther finally let go Arthur wasn't the only one who struggled for air. The King also fought for his composure. "But be that as it may, we have decided that a public trial for High Treason would be unbecoming to the reputation and the dignity of the Crown. However you will get the opportunity to make amends for what you have done. As of today your rank and privileges as my son and as Crown Prince are withdrawn. You will rectify the wrongs you have done to us and to the realm by serving Camelot's interests at Count Llanfair's court." With some satisfaction Uther saw Arthur flinch visibly and his eyes widen. "I see that you remember the peace offer the Count made some time ago. It would bring peace and security to our Western borders on the condition that you would come to his Court as a hostage, to guarantee our good will and faith."

Arthur swallowed hard. Surely his father couldn't be serious. "I remember that the letter was a calculated insult at you and at the Crown of Camelot. Not only didn't he offer a hostage for _his_ good will and faith. He also claimed that, as his family were much more ancient than the Pendragons, he was entitled to keep me in servitude whilst I were in his hands. I was to be surrendered to him with my hands bound by our own men, so that no doubt could be raised by anyone as to who is master and who is servant among the Llanfairs and the Pendragons."

"That wouldn't be more than you deserve. If you can't behave like a loyal son we must capitalize on your assets in another way. You haven't been much use to the realm as her Prince. Now you will make yourself useful as Llanfair's servant if needs be to keep our borderlands save."

Never before had the younger Pendragon known that his father's voice could be that silkily malicious. He tried to collect his thoughts. He had to make the madman see reason. "If you proceed with this the damage to Camelot's reputation will be incalculable. Everybody will see it as a sign of utter weakness on our.., on your part. Besides, who guarantees that Llanfair will stay away from the border territories? Once he has got me, what should restrain him?" Looking at Uther Arthur added silently "except that my own father doesn't care whether I live or die, of course."

With an impatient gesture the King dismissed these deliberations. "The fact that I yielded to his offer will be sufficient to satisfy Llanfair for years. The man is stubborn, proud and extremely vain. I know the type."

"And so you should, you have been washing and dressing him every morning since you were born" Arthur thought sarcastically before realization that his father was serious about accepting Llanfair's 'offer' hit him like a slap in the face.

He gulped down a fitting response as well as his pride. "Father, you can't do this…" but again he was painfully silenced by the King's rough hand. "You will _not _call me 'father', is that understood. You have forfeited the right to call me by that name." Again Uther held the younger man's face for a moment in an iron grip that he knew to be painful, as if he waited for something. Tears, perhaps? Or a sign of real fear? Anyway, it didn't come. His son's eyes looked past him, then they closed. Without struggling he simply waited for his father to let go. As soon as the King released him, Arthur silently turned his face to the wall. He knew that further arguments were useless now. There was nothing he could do to avoid the derogatory game his father wanted to play.

"Tomorrow morning you will be called to the throne room where my decision to send you to Llanfair will be officially announced. You will accept most humbly and immediately afterwards you will leave Camelot without resistance, is that clear?" With the bitter taste of defeat in his mouth the young man conceded victory to his father. "Yes, My Lord. I understand."

Uther was already at the door when he fired the last shot at his victim. "By the way, I advise you to keep your promise this time. If you offer any resistance or insolence tomorrow or during your journey to Llanfair's castle you will force me to punish Morgana's former maid. I had her arrested as she doubtlessly has been in league with your treachery. You will have to go at great length to convince me to spare her."

Arthur fought the urge to throw up. Unwittingly he looked at Uther so pleadingly that the King clenched his jaw. But the son recognized nothing but vicious joy in his father's face, the joy of an experienced tormentor. Something inside Arthur was torn apart and gave way. "Sire, I beg of you, please don't pull her into this.…I swear I'll do everything you want." Resolved despite everything to finish the lesson as he saw fit Uther smiled benevolently. "You will, my son, this time you will. I know it."

After Uther had left his son slumped back against the wall. "Father, please, please don't do this to me" he stammered senselessly. The aftermath of the nightmarish scene caused a physical pain that made it hard to breath.

Outside the younger of the two guards hesitantly approached the King. "Your Majesty, is it your wish that His Highness is freed from his restraints?"

In mid-stride Uther answered casually "you can cut him loose later tonight. It will teach him a lesson to guard this sharp tongue of his."

As soon as Uther had vanished behind the corner the elder guard fished out the keys for the locks that additionally secured the door bolts and unsheathed his knife. His comrade watched him uncomprehendingly. "Marius, what are you doing?"

Marius feigned a blow at the younger one's head. "What does it look like, dumb ass? I'll go in there and cut the boy off."

"But the King said…." replied his companion.

This time Marius doled out a real clout. "The King, the King! I tell ya, the man's a few bricks short of a load. We heard what's he's going to do, as clear as a bell. As sure as eggs is eggs he'll be all remorse once he's seen the last of his boy's back but by then the old wolf of Llanfair will have his prey and he'll never let go of his pound of flesh, no Sir. And then where will your grand King be? Huh? I tell ya what. Old Uther will do what's he's always done after he's foozled it. He'll try to scrape by with some tricks but he'll only have his lad's carcass, this time. An' maybe some of us will also bite the dust. D'ya really think the wretched lad deserves to spend his last day home tied to a wall like an animal? He'll see enough of the kind once the old wolf has dug his claws into him."

Impatiently he pushed his comrade aside and went into the cell. As he had thought Arthur was tied up closely to the wall, with his arms awkwardly twisted behind him. Shaking his head in disgust he seized the young man's shoulder to get to the bonds and felt him shake. On impulse he forced his face towards him. "If I were you my boy, I'd never let this happen. Kiss your father's feet or his arse or whatever it takes, crawl or weep or jump under his heel but make the man stop before he buggers up completely." He cut through the bonds and let go of Arthur. "You can do it, son. It's up to you now."

For the remainder of the day and during the night Arthur pondered the advice. But other than the guard he saw no feasible way to convince his father. Not after what Uther had said and done. He told himself that it would be for Gwen's sake if he surrendered to the madman but deep down inside him he felt that he would rather give himself up to Llanfair than he would endure the kind of public spectacle the King might have in mind. His relationship to his father would never recover from the humiliation. _If_ there _was_ a public spectacle that would persuade Uther Pendragon to spare his son. Arthur doubted it. No, there was nothing he could do. His only hope was that Uther would finally back off from this incredible idea, if only for political reasons. If he didn't... the young man's imagination recoiled from the thought. But although his stomach turned at the idea of being surrendered unconditionally into Llanfair's hands his final decision had been made in advance. If this atrocity really was what his father wanted, if Uther Pendragon preferred his revenge over his son Arthur wouldn't back down. Let the madman have his will to the bitter end.

The madman hadn't returned to his Court after he had seen his son. Instead he had retired to his private rooms and he had given order that under no circumstances he was to be disturbed. Once he was sure he was alone he let his authoritative pose slip and fell into a chair, panting heavily. This hadn't gone very well. Maybe he shouldn't have ordered the guards to tie the boy up, things had deteriorated from there.

He rose and started to pace, hands clenched into fists. If only the boy hadn't been that insolent. There had been no remorse, no regret. One should have thought that the long illness and the captivity in this ugly garret would have been enough to weaken everyone's defences. Even those of the spoiled brat he had for a son. Not for the life of his Uther could imagine where from the boy should have inherited this tendency for stubborn arrogance and pride. Every other child would have been terrified out of his wits, but naturally Arthur Pendragon wouldn't back down, come hell or high water.

While his initial musings had still enclosed some fondness, the King now worked himself up into an irrational and dangerous wrath once more. The hurt he had felt when he had realized that during the days after Merlin's arrest Arthur had planned to betray him! How they had laughed and bantered that evening! Uther had virtually cherished the memory until this guard soldier had informed him on his suspicions of the Prince. Enraged Uther had ordered the man's immediate arrest but the distrust had never left him.

He had ordered his personal guard to stalk his son and to find out the whereabouts of Gaius. They had also inspected the fresh grave by the lake. On their intelligence he had ordered his son's arrest. The pain and humiliation of that moment were still raw. Temporarily they had been pushed to the back of his mind when they had brought his son back on that stretcher, covered in blood and barely alive. In those long weeks in which Arthur's life had hung in the balance, the betrayal hadn't hurt that much. But then the physician had proclaimed that the boy would live. The utter relief Uther had felt had been closely followed by the hate and spite his son's treachery had originally caused.

There was no way to palliate this. His only son had requited all his father's loving care and tender affection with treason. He might even have calculated that his father would think he had been kidnapped. Thereby he and these filthy magicians would have had a head start, while the King of Camelot worried himself to death about his son's fate. He would have turned every stone to find his missing child while Arthur and these….these…monstrosities he called his friends would have sat in some dive, laughing about the stupid fool that called himself a King.

Hot blood flushed into the mortified man's face and his heart raced in an aching chest. It hurt. Oh Gods, he hadn't known he still _could_ feel that kind of hurt, so many years after Igraine had died.

And now? What had he seen now? After all those weeks of isolation in this shabby room, after so much pain and weakness, after he had seen for himself that those sorcerers had abandoned him at the first sign of trouble this… this brat still stubbornly refused to properly back down. Even the perspective of being handed over to the old Llanfair wolf couldn't break him. He'd rather go to whatever fate Llanfair kept in store for him before he would beg his father for forgiveness. Of course, for this wretched servant girl he could beg, oh yes. Doubtlessly she meant so much more to him than his father ever had.

Uther's head ached as if it would burst. He could find neither rest nor peace while his thoughts ran in circles. Finally one crazy thought stopped the maddening carousel and brought some perverse kind of comfort. If that is what he wants, why not let him have it? If he can't apologize to you now, what do you expect in future? His guts twisted and his heart fluttered because Uther Pendragon knew that he was going to make an unforgivable mistake, the foolery of a lifetime. But he couldn't get rid of the damned thought. If my son prefers _this_ over a proper apology to his father, give him a taste of the consequences. Let him feel for a while as I have felt when he betrayed me.

The next morning the King confirmed his so far preliminary orders for the journey to the border of Llanfair's estate. Sir Leon would be the only knight in the escort. Otherwise only the King's personal guard would accompany Camelot's Prince. The official announcement and Arthur's acceptance of it took place as if it was a stage play the Pendragons had agreed to perform for some unknown reasons of their own. Father and son waited for a single sign of remorse from the other until it was too late. Uther convicted his son for treachery and Arthur submitted to the judgement as if they were both held captive by ceremonial rules which were way beyond their human power. As ordered, the young man mounted his horse and joined the escort to Llanfair immediately after the ceremony. There were no goodbyes. Arthur didn't even look back.

Uther hadn't left the throne room. He heard the hoofs beating on the bridge as the escort left the castle while his secretary stowed away the official documents of this morning's procedures carefully. The old man said that these documents would have to go to the Camelot Annals. He asked the King whether they were to be registered together with last year's document that had sealed Arthur Pendragon's accession to the title of Crown Prince. Uther nodded and went to his office, knowing that the room would be deserted in this moment.

Safe behind the heavy doors the King of Camelot cried like a wounded animal.


	9. Disgraceful valediction

**9. Disgraceful valediction**

Two weeks later the Camelot escort and their former Prince reached the borders of Llanfair's main estate. It had been an uneventful ride with Arthur being very quiet under the guards' watchful eyes. For Leon the journey had been torturous. His every attempt to speak to the Prince had been prevented. And the ordeal wasn't over yet. He dreaded the orders Uther had laid out to him for the handover of the living pawn. While Camelot's Head Knight had been the escort's leader in name only this dispensable honour would be his and his alone.

Of course the Pendragon banners so near the Llanfair stronghold hadn't went unnoticed. It didn't take long before Count Llanfair's guard rode towards them. Surprised Leon saw that Llanfair himself was actually leading them.

"Now then, time to go." Startled by the unexpected voice, Leon saw that Arthur had joined him. Leon stared at his former Commander. Arthur shrugged dismissively. "We knew how it would be, my friend. The sooner it's over the better."

Pendragon turned and crossed his wrists behind his back but Leon pulled him around. "You will _not_ go to these bastards with your hands tied. I won't allow it." Arthur was maddeningly calm. "You know the terms King Uther has agreed to."

Leon spit out. "I piss on the terms. That's all they are good for" but even as he said it they both saw one of the guards take a pair of handcuffs from his belt. Arthur's voice became urgent. "Please, this is our only chance to talk." Gritting his teeth Leon laid his hand on the Prince's shoulder and led him towards the Llanfair guard who had halted near the boundary stone.

"Would you do something for me?" Arthur asked haltingly while they walked.

"Whatever you want, Sire."

"Take Guinivere somewhere safe. Uther promised to spare her if I came here willingly."

Leon's grip tightened. "Your father did _what_?" Arthur looked at him imploringly. "I will, you have my word" was all Leon could whisper in reply before they reached the border mark of the estate.

Under the agreement's terms Leon had to leave now, but he only let go of Arthur's shoulder. So they both watched Count Llanfair approach them, leading a spare horse.

"You are Arthur Pendragon?" Arthur looked up into cold, calculating grey-green eyes in a weathered face with strong bones and a dark skin. "Yes, I am" he replied.

"Then by the agreement I have with your father you are my prisoner. You will take the horse and follow me."

The young Pendragon took up the bridle offered to him. "Farewell, Leon. Say goodbye to her from me." While he jumped on the horse, Leon nodded and turned away. Let one of the overzealous soldiers be the official witness of how Camelot's Prince was dragged into an enemy castle, he was sick of it all.

"Sir Leon, wait. I have a message for your King." The knight turned back and took a parcel with documents from the Count's hand. "These parchments go with a verbal message I want you to deliver to the King of Camelot with my exact words."

Long after they had left him, Leon still stood forlornly in the same place. "Be damned Uther Pendragon, you and your foolishness. Be damned to hell."

On his return to Camelot Sir Leon was immediately received by the King. He gave a tight lipped report of the events at Llanfair. When Uther inquired after Leon's prisoner he was told that His Highness had been taken to the Llanfair stronghold immediately after their arrival. Pendragon let the spiteful answer go without comment.

Leon handed over the documents which turned out to be a copy of the peace agreement on the border countries that had set the ball rolling in the first place. It wasn't signed. At Uther's bewildered inquiry Leon repeated Count Llanfair's additional message and with some satisfaction he saw that every word hit home exactly as intended.

"My Lord Llanfair thanks you for the gracious offer of a peace treaty between him, a mere Baron, and the illustrious Crown of Camelot. However, he sees no necessity for a written understanding. He assumes that you will have no interest in raiding your former border countries which he now considers to be his. He trusts that you will accept this new situation as willingly as you have delivered your most precious possession into his hands to do with as he pleases."

Leon bowed and left. He had more important things to do than to watch a crestfallen King crumble under a load of remorse and guilt that came too late for anyone.

He went directly to the city, to Guinivere's house. When she opened the door herself he hugged the startled woman to his chest until she screamed. It was hard to tell her what had happened. Why she had been released from the dungeons all of a sudden. Helplessly he held her while she cried. It needed some time before he could tell her that his sister would take her on as a maid and that they would leave Camelot in a few days. He had asked for his dismissal and he didn't doubt that it would be granted after today's events. Meekly she agreed to everything he said. She looked so sweet and vulnerable in her misery that he fully understood why Arthur had fallen for a mere servant girl. When he left he felt like a hero in a fairy tale, saving a fair damsel in distress. He actually smiled to himself while he went to see his sister.

Guinivere watched him leave. She hadn't heard a word of his most gracious plans to make her a favourite servant in his house. All she had heard was that Arthur was in desperate need of help. He had once fought and risked his life for her and now she would do the same for him. It was that simple. Whether this meant to rob, lie or cut some throats was all the same to her. This puffed-up good-for-nothing oaf of a knight who had just stood by and gawked when Arthur had been taken prisoner might come in handy after all. She would go with him and once free of Camelot's watchful eyes she would look for help. Real help.

She started to pack a few clothes, some pieces of jewellery Morgana had given her and the money she had saved. The most important items she packed into an extra bag. Her father had made very fine weapons indeed and she had the distinct feeling that she would need the best of his swords and knifes before this madness was over.

When Leon came the next day to take her up she smiled radiantly at him and enjoyed to see him blush. While she followed him to his house she still smiled. She would go and find the damn warlock whose fault it all was and he would help her to save the man she loved. He'd better not refuse her.


	10. Llanfair

**Dragon Hearts**

**10. Llanfair**

Arthur screamed at the top of his lungs as the whip hit his mutilated back and thighs again and again. Already lacerated skin was ripped open and flesh was torn apart in a never ending nightmare of pain and fear. Without really knowing it, he whimpered "please, no more, please, don't...."

Through the haze that covered his mind he felt Count Llanfair grip his hair and jerk his head upwards. "Son, if I were you, I'd rethink my answer to an honest offer. I can go on with this to all eternity. Question is, can you?"

Somewhere in Arthur's mind an answer formed but it never reached his lips. From a far distance he heard Llanfair's order to continue and after a few minutes he screamed again and didn't stop until the beating was halted once more. The young man hung in the chains that fastened his handcuffs and leg irons to the wall and gasped with pain until a rag was stuffed into his mouth and secured with a piece of rope. The lack of air became intolerable. A few lashes more and Arthur sank into merciful oblivion.

Llanfair scrutinized his prisoner's still face and felt for his pulse. "I think that's enough for today. We can continue tomorrow." With rough force he pulled the chains tight once more and secured them in the hooks that were placed in several places of the wall. Only then he removed the gag. "Lucius, I hold you responsible that he keeps quiet when he comes to, understood? I'll expect my son to come back any time now."

His Head Gaoler nodded and Llanfair left the dungeons with a very dissatisfied face.

As soon as the old Count had turned his back Lucius checked on the unconscious Prince. As he had assumed the young man burned with fever. The old soldier looked at the gruesome injuries and moaned as if _he_ had been tortured along with his prisoner. Then he came to a decision.

Lucius muttered angrily under his breath while he crossed Blackrock Castle's court yard and headed for the infirmary. "Merco! Where are ya, ol' weasel? Come out or I'll break your unwashed neck. Damn him, where's the ol' quack?"

A small, fragile looking man of unidentifiable age bustled out of a dark corner. With hair of an indistinct brown, little dark eyes, a small face and protruding upper teeth he indeed resembled a weasel. He tried to keep up his dignity, straightened his dirty robe, pulled himself up to his full height and blew up his narrow chest. Unfortunately nothing of this was in the least impressive. "Has it ever occurred to you that you threats could be so much more intimidating if for once you would trouble yourself with considering their logic in advance? Ad exemplum, how could you possibly break my neck if I am not even there?"

The middle-aged soldier, almost two metres tall and very bulky, stared down at the tiny man and growled dangerously. "Don't you dare ta trouble me with your three an' a half words of the ol' Romans' tongue, they don''t impressin' me much and well ya know it. Now prick your ears if ya wont ta keep them. I need some 'herbal ointment' or whatever ya call the stuff that's good for open wounds, some of your other stuff ta clean them an' stop them festering, some bandages an' clean rags. An' _rapido_, if ya understand _my _Latin well enough ta know what's good for ya!"

Mercator scrutinized Llanfair's Head Gaoler doubtfully. "And to what purpose, if I may ask, would you use these medications and items? And on your own discretion, without my expert help I would presume?"

Suddenly Lucius gave up his threatening posture and shrugged helplessly. "The old wolf can't make up his mind. The way he keeps Pendragon's lad chained in this hell-hole is torture in itself an' he's having him whipped an' starved until the sun would shine through him an' yet he tells me ta keep the wretched whelp alive. By force if needs be. An' it needs be, believe me. I tell ya, I'm sick of forcing everything down the boy's throat, only to see it come back a wee bit later. I'm at my wits' end."

Mercator sighed softly and shook his head. "This is disgraceful" the healer said. "Why is he doing it, Lucius? What does he want from the son that he hasn't already got from the father?"

Lucius snorted. "It's true that the wolf has the old dragon on his knees and the whole of Camelot with him. But there's more than countries and money in the dirty game he's playing with the dragon's hatchling. I don't know what's what, but so far Arthur doesn't play along an' it makes the Count furious like Satan himself."

Mercator had put all necessary things in a basket and gave it to the soldier. "How do you think you could explain your help for the prisoner? I understand it goes against the Count's expressed wishes."

Lucius took the basket and shrugged again. "He wants the boy alive. That's my excuse." Looking furtively at the physician he added "you know, if this doesn't work, the old wolf may take it out on both of us."

The small man shuddered and his face became very pale, but also very resolved. "Take the medication anyway and I hope it will do some good. If you need more, let me know."

Lucius nodded. "Thanks, old man. I owe you."

Once back in the dungeons Lucius searched for some clean straw and covered it with a blanket before he unlocked the chains that had forced the young man to lie in his own filth for many days. Relieved that Arthur was still out as a light the soldier ripped off the filthy clothes and washed away as much dirt as possible before he laid his patient on the blanket. Then he had a closer look at the injuries. Some of them needed stitching but for now the cleaning and the ointment would have to do. The soldier tried to get to the badly injured wrists and ankles as well, but Llanfair had made sure that the cuffs were a tight fit. Lucius cursed softly. He had the keys for the bolts that were used to pull the wall chains tight but not for the manacles or leg irons. However, this couldn't be helped. Miraculously there were no lice or other vermin yet.

"Your fever may still be your salvation, son. Either it'll bring the old wolf to his senses or it will take you out of your misery" Lucius muttered while he poured some water down the prisoner's throat. "Look at me, 50 years old, 35 years of military service and now I'm playing the mother hen" he continued while he pulled one of his old shirts and a pair of equally time-honoured pants over the exposed skin and covered the body with another blanket. Lucius rose and groaned as his stiff joints complained.

He ripped the wooden boards off the windows. Air and the evening sunlight flowed into the cell. Together with the open door this should do nicely. At the sound of chains clanking he turned and saw that Arthur had curled up more comfortably under the blanket. So he was asleep now. Unbelievable but true, the boy was breathing much easier already. But then the Pendragons had always been a tough lot.

Lucius sat down in the nearest corner and rested his back against the wall to wait out the night. "20 years since I left Camelot to spy for your father at Llanfair's Court" Lucius thought while he watched Arthur sleeping. "20 years in which Uther and the old wolf raised two fine sons whom we all hoped would bring the idiotic old feud to an end. And now look at the mess we're stuck in."

Once more scrutinizing the Prince's injuries, Lucius shook his head in despair. "It won't do you any good, but your father will never let that go unpunished, my boy. And if I know the old dragon he will take it out on young Lord Antek as much as the old wolf is taking it out on you. If some animals had raised the two of you somewhere in the brushwood you would have been better off."

The night passed on uneventfully. Lucius had just once again settled down in his corner when he heard the outer door open and close again. He rose to his feet, full of apprehension. "Showtime, my Prince" he thought. "For your life and mine."

The Count's enraged roar was audible long before he actually entered the prison cell. "Lucius. I'll have your guts cut out for this. Where are you? How dare you open that door and the windows?"

"I am here, My Lord. As is your prisoner, if barely." Lucius knew better than to play dumb with his master.

At the sight of the matted mass of blond hair under the blanket the Count calmed down somewhat. "Who authorised this?"

Lucius still stood in full attention. "I acted on my own accord, Your Grace. You wanted the captive to be kept alive at any costs. I did my best to follow your orders, but now, with the fever and all....."

Llanfair frowned. "Fever you say? So soon?"

With an effort, Lucius kept his respectful tone. "It has been eight weeks since he was dragged in here, My Lord. Two weeks since you first pulled the chains so tight that he couldn't move at all. No air, no light. It was to be expected."

Llanfair bent down and touched Arthur's forehead. His face fell as he rose and Lucius saw his chance. "You see, besides the fever the wounds are festering."

When the old Count kept his silence and bit his lip in thought Lucius decided to push him a little bit further. "Why not let Merco nurse him for a while. Whatever you do to him now, he won't feel it anyway. But once he has recovered the perspective of being brought back here might bring him to heel."

Llanfair pondered this for a moment before he grunted affirmatively and threw his keys to the gaoler. "Take him upstairs then. We'll see what comes of it. If he escapes, you will take his place in here until you rot in your chains. Understood?"

The soldier nodded. "Perfectly well, My Lord."

The moment Lucius left the infirmary after he had delivered his prisoner into Mercator's capable hands he heard hoofs beat on the Castle Bridge. "Antek!" he thought, and his heart missed a beat for utter relieve. "Thank heaven, he's back." The soldier stormed across the castle yard and caught up with his young master at the stable entrance. "My Lord, I have to speak to you."

Antek frowned impatiently. "Lucius, I have only just arrived. I'm tired, I'm dirty and whatever it is, I'm sure I won't be interested right now."

Lucius felt despair well up inside him. "My Lord, with all due respect, this is urgent. There's something in the infirmary you _must_ see!"

Antek sighed and surrendered. "All right, all right, I would have greeted _U__ncle_ Mercator anyway." When this familiar joke didn't bring a smile to Lucius' lips the young Count became worried. "Is something amiss with the old man?"

Forgetting all protocol and decency Lucius gripped his Lord's arm and pulled him towards the infirmary. ""You'll wait and see for yourself" he said.

Barely fifteen minutes later, Antek ran towards his father's chambers with a face white with rage.

Count Llanfair looked up when his son banged the door against the wall and stormed in. "Father, how could you do a thing like this? It's an outrage. I will not tolerate it."

The Count cocked a brow. "I take it you have been to the infirmary?"

"Yes, I have. And I am horrified at what I saw."

His father shrugged dismissively. "Arthur will survive. He's much tougher than one would expect from such a handsome boy."

"Well father, he's not so handsome now. What did you think you were doing? How on earth shall we ever explain this to his father?"

"_We_ won't explain anything. May I remind you that _I _am the Master here."

Antek snorted. "The way you treated the heir to Camelot's Crown you may very well be the last Count of Llanfair. Uther will have both our heads for this."

Llanfair laid down the parchments he had held in his hands. "Uther will not see his son again in this life and that's that. Besides, Arthur no longer _is_ the heir to Camelot's Crown."

Antek shook his head, completely at a loss. "What are you talking about? We had a clear agreement with Camelot. Arthur was to come here for a few weeks to emphasize Camelot's good intentions and to guarantee that Uther wouldn't betray us. His stay here should improve _your_ standing in the negotiations with Camelot. We both swore a sacred oath that Arthur wouldn't be harmed. Uther has our written and sworn consent to this."

"Fortunately for us, that's not what Uther told his son. Fact is that he disinherited Arthur and disowned him before he came here. A case of treachery, as I was informed by our people in Camelot."

Antek didn't trust his ears. "Treason? _Arthur_?"

Llanfair got impatient. "Antek, as always you are completely missing the point. Fact is that Uther was sufficiently blinded by emotion to put up a ruse for his son, telling him that he had agreed to this mock offer of a peace treaty I once made. Seems he crowned his stupidity by taking a servant girl Arthur used to cuddle to the dungeons to ensure his son's cooperation." The old Count settled back in his chair and waited until he saw understanding dawn in his son's face.

Antek sat down flat on his father's desk. "You mean Arthur came here thinking that his _own father_ had effectively sold him into _slavery_?" Llanfair nodded, still smiling benevolently. "Surely you do see the implications for us in that?"

When his son only stared at him, the Count made a show of very patiently folding his fingers in front of him. "Then let me enlighten you, my son. As you very well know, it was almost thirty years ago that Uther Pendragon came out of nowhere and stole the woman I loved, the Crown she had to give and the Castle that had been my home from me. For almost thirty years the shrewd old bastard has counteracted all my plans to expand my property and my power. Now, for the first and probably the last time he has blundered. He has really mucked it up and now I will break him to pieces. He will lose the only thing really precious to him and this will also cost him his Crown and his realm in the end, you'll see. And believe me he'll know who has defeated him before he dies."

Antek saw the rapture in his father's face. Eyes glittering unnaturally, cheeks reddened and lips pulled back behind his teeth the old Count seemed to have changed into somebody entirely alien, someone not completely human. His son felt a coldness grow inside him, as if a lump of ice slowly found its way from his guts to his chest. The hatred he saw in his father's face was almost palpable, as if it had a life of its own.

The young Count rose and swallowed hard. "So you betrayed Uther and _me_ for the opportunity to take out your petty revenge on a defenceless boy who never caused you any harm."

All of a sudden Llanfair pulled himself upright to his full height and his voice filled the room. "The Pendragon Dynasty is aptly named. Dragon's seed, that's what they are, with a Dragon's heart, a Dragon's soul and a Dragon's inhuman powers. Unnatural was the charm that lured Igraine away from me and unnatural was the birth of Uther's child. They have no right to Camelot's Crown and it is my task to see that this abomination is extinguished from this earth. A true son would understand this. A true son would support me. But you....you....." Llanfair pressed a hand to his chest and bent over and for a moment only his laboured breathing was audible.

As always the purposeful show of pain and 'fragile health' was sufficient to subdue Antek. When his father fell back into his chair and covered his eyes, the young Count hurried to his side and took his hand. "Forgive me father" he murmured: "I didn't want to upset you."

Llanfair pushed his son's hand away. "Then why are you always talking such nonsense?" he said indignantly "Arthur isn't a boy, he's 22, like you. Besides, it was his choosing. I told him he would be well treated if he came over to me and he spit into my face. Even after what Uther had done to him the stupid prat didn't want to abandon his father. If he had cooperated, if he would have begged for his father's help, Uther would have met all my demands without me touching a hair on Arthur's head."

Through all the honest sorrow for his father, Antek felt a chill run down his spine. This exceeded the man's familiar ruthlessness. "But as it was" he said, disgusted by the mere thought, "the horror stories you used to put pressure on Camelot had to be true."

Llanfair nodded. "That was part of it, yes. But there's more to it. When Uther bites the dust I want him to know that even his own son has forsaken him. This so called King of Camelot will die in the knowledge that the last thing he had left of Igraine is now _mine_." Llanfair smiled indulgently at his son's horrified face; as if Antek was an insolent child one had to be patient with. "You think that's unachievable? My dear boy, you are an imbecile when it comes to human nature. Arthur can and will be turned, believe me. You'll let me handle this and all will be fine in the end." Now it was him who searched for Antek's hand to fondle it and his voice became soft and kind. "I am doing it all for you, my son, don't you know that? Oh, what an inheritance I will leave to you, you'll see. Just let me handle everything."

However, Antek wasn't defeated that easily. He rose and pulled his hand back. "Father, I will not let Arthur suffer from your hand once more. As soon as he's sufficiently recovered I will escort him back to Camelot myself. After all, he is my friend."

Llanfair snorted. "Don't be ridiculous. These six months you had together as page boys at King Olaf's Court hardly count as a life-long friendship."

But this time Llanfair couldn't manipulate his son just like that. "Arthur was very kind to me back then. While all the other boys avoided me for no other reason than that I am a Llanfair they flattered and pampered King Uther's son. But Arthur singled _me_ out as his companion and we really became friends, until you and Uther called us back home prematurely."

The old Count closed his eyes and laid his head in his hand as if exasperated by such stupidity. "Antek, even you can't be _that_ naïve. Doubtlessly Arthur had orders from his father to turn you against me. I _had_ to call you home to save you from Pendragon's deviousness."

Fighting for his patience Antek drew a deep breath. "Father, this is absurd. How devious can a sixteen year old boy possibly be?"

All of a sudden Llanfair slumped down in his chair in well feigned exasperation. "All right then. Go on with this madness. Bring the hatchling back home and see what the old dragon will do to you. Go ahead, do what you think you have to do. But I swear to you, the day Arthur regains his freedom will mark the end of everything we ever worked for. Not a stone will be left standing of our estate once Uther Pendragon is through with us and we both will regret that we were ever born."

Antek's determination weakened. All his life he had been told stories about Uther's cruelty and he was genuinely afraid of the man he had never met. Now the disgraceful ruse he had put up for his son strengthened the gruesome picture Antek had made up of the King of Camelot.

Much less resolved than before Antek said "I am pretty sure he wouldn't hurt us if it was me who brought his son back. Surely Arthur wouldn't want his father to know all the details of what happened to him."

Llanfair sensed his son's insecurity and went for the open flank. "Oh, but he already _does_ know all the details. You see, I wrote to him, weekly. Everything I did to your so called 'friend', how he looked afterwards, how it sounded when he screamed, when he begged me to stop or when he unwittingly cried for his father, how his pride crumbled, bit by bit, while I had him forcibly fed – it was all in my letters. Which father could forgive this? You tell me!"

Llanfair worked himself up into an appalling enthusiasm. "Oh, of course, you were in the border territories playing the gallant Commander-in Chief, but why do you think Uther's troops _really_ retreated from there without firing a single shot? Do you have any idea how much these territories are worth in annual revenue? And speaking of money, you should go down to the vaults and have a look at our coffers. Camelot paid an outrageous sum for Arthur's release, no guarantees asked. I kept the money _and_ the Prince and all his father received in return was another letter. But naturally, if _you_ were to march into the dragon's den, all would be forgiven and forgotten. Or maybe you wish to drag your own father along with you to see me hanged by the neck from Camelot's highest tower."

Antek felt sick and tired to the bone. "What have you done to us?" he muttered. "Uther's army outnumbers our troops seven to one. He could crush us to dust any time."

Llanfair laughed hysterically. "But don't you see that that's the best of it? He can't do anything with all his power as long as Arthur is in our hands. If he were to march against Blackrock, I'd have nothing to lose."

Antek stared at him. "What about me and my future?" he whispered hoarsely. "I am _that_ dispensable to you?"

For a moment this knocked Llanfair out of his stride but he recovered quickly. "Antek, you do not understand what I am saying. Of course you're not dispensable to me. You are my son and I love you. You'll see, in the end we will have it all. I had the details of what happened to their precious Prince spread in Camelot by our agents. Everybody knows them. How long do you think the people will tolerate a King who foozled it like that? His Head Knight has already forsaken him, together with a whole bunch of other knights and their men. Uther never thought of informing his people about the _real_ terms under which Arthur came here. If he were to tell the truth now, who would believe him? The only thing left to do is to bring his son under our thumb and Uther Pendragon will be finished, Antek, finished."

In spite of many signs and hints the young Count had never before allowed himself to think that his father might have lost his sanity. Now realization that the man in front of him was a danger to himself, to his son and to virtually everyone around him as well as to the realm he controlled came as a brutal blow. At the same time Antek knew that there was nothing he could do to counteract his father's lunacy. No guard, no soldier, not even Lucius or Merco would go against Llanfair's will, no matter what Antek said or did. Every single lash of the whip that had hit Arthur Pendragon's body had brought Camelot's swords nearer to Llanfair's throat. Now the two houses were in a deadlock of hatred and violence. Burning with shame and embarrassment Antek let go of the thought to set Arthur free. There wasn't much he could do to help his friend except sparing him a return to the dungeons' living hell.

Antek once more knelt at his father's side. "You are right, father, as always. I guess I'll never learn to think things through as carefully as you do. However, as so far all your efforts could not bring Arthur to heel, may I make a suggestion as to how we should proceed?"

Llanfair listened to what his son had conjured up and smiled benevolently. He caressed his son's dark, unruly hair and agreed to everything he said. It was exactly what he had wanted Antek to say and do, but what good would it do to tell the naïve boy anything? It was enough that Antek's pathetic attempts to save him would bring Arthur so much nearer to the trap the old Count had set up for the young dragon's soul.

Llanfair smiled down at Antek's eager face and enjoyed being seemingly deluded while it really was him who beguiled his son. "Oh, Uther" he thought "isn't it exerting to raise a boy? Wouldn't you agree?"

.


	11. Surrender

11 Surrender

Arthur left the infirmary's side chamber and went to the small yard the building was attached to. As always in the early morning the small atrium was completely deserted. The Prince went to the water pump, stripped and relished in the splashing water. So far nobody had noticed that Mercator left this door to Arthur's room unlocked during the nights.

Before his spell in Llanfair's dungeon Pendragon hadn't imagined it could be that wonderful to have free access to clean, fresh water whenever he felt like it. Besides, the solitude he had here was a welcome change to the close guard he usually was under. Whether he worked for the physician or was secured in his room he was kept under constant surveillance and unfortunately it was seldom Lucius who had the honour. So Arthur enjoyed the few precious moments of freedom in the small yard ever since he had been able to stand on his own two feet and walk a few steps.

Today he also lingered after he had dressed again and looked up at the sky. Even the healer's consideration could only go so far against Count Llanfair's explicit orders for the treatment of the prisoner and Arthur knew better than to resist when old Merco found it wiser to call him back in. Therefore, although he owed the healer a debt of gratitude for his unselfish kindness, the young man desperately hoped that Mercator would be late in getting up.

However, he heard someone rummaging in the infirmary. "Well, that's that" he thought and grimaced "bricked in for another day."

Arthur went to the infirmary instead back to his room where he was supposedly locked up, in the firm belief that it was the physician who had begun his daily work. "Merco, you're up early today..." he said but an ice cold feeling of shock and terror stopped him short. The man he saw wasn't Merco. Horrified Arthur stared into the face of Llanfair's son. This was it, then. It wouldn't pacify Llanfair that the yard was completely walled-in, that all outer doors of the building were securely locked and that Merco had the only set of keys. Pendragon had no doubt whatsoever that the revelation of him being free to wander the infirmary's ground at will would bring him _and_ Mercator to the whipping pole, and worse.

Antek, too, had been startled by the unexpected encounter but other than Arthur he was relieved when he recognized his counterpart. "Arthur, thank Gods, it's you. I thought it was one of the guards. Come with me, I have to speak to you."

Stunned by surprise Pendragon let Antek drag him across the yard to the side chamber that had been Arthur's sleeping place for the last four weeks, since Lucius had brought him out of the dungeons. Once there, Arthur had sufficiently recovered from his initial shock to shake off the offensive grip.

"What do you want, Antek? Gloat a little on the latest addition to Llanfair's livestock?" He bit his lip only afterwards. This remark wouldn't be very helpful. He knew he had to beg Antek to keep this encounter to himself, if only for Merco's sake. However, he had no opportunity to do so.

To Arthur's profound astonishment, Antek looked crestfallen, hurt and embarrassed, all at the same time. "Forgive me, Arthur. I shouldn't have sandbagged you like that."

The captive didn't believe his ears. This was absurd. "What did you say?"

"It's only that I must speak to you before they come for you. My father has decided only last night that you are to be brought back to the dungeons today. So this is my last chance."

Oblivious of Antek's imploring face Arthur felt his legs go limp. Swallowing hard he leaned onto the window sill for support. He had known this day would come. The respite Llanfair had granted him hadn't exactly been a friendly gesture. It had been an additional cruelty as well as a necessity to keep his victim alive. So Arthur had waited helplessly for this moment to come, much like a piece of cattle would wait for the slaughterer's axe to fall. Unfortunately, now that the dreaded moment had finally come, his previous knowledge didn't ease his terror at all.

Antek saw him shudder and the humiliating feeling of disgrace he had had before came back with multiplied intensity. "Arthur, you _must_ allow me to help you as best I can. Believe me, I am still your friend."

A sudden wave of uncontrollable rage made Arthur reckless and he darted around. "You speak of helping me, _my friend_? Who was it that confirmed my identity when your father thought me to be an imposter, sent by Uther to lure him into a trap? Who stood by and watched me being bound and pushed to the floor at your father's feet only a minute later?" Against his will Arthur's voice became more and more distraught. "If you want to help me, let me _go,_ for heaven's sake. Give me a horse and let me out of here. I can't stand this any more." His face burning with shame at his lack of self-control Pendragon once more turned his back to his opponent and tried to calm down.

Antek reached for Arthur's shoulder but let his hand fall again. What on earth had given him the idea that this would be easy? In truth he hadn't remembered the scene Arthur referred to until now. At the time he had still trusted his father to be true to the sworn agreement they had with King Uther. Count Llanfair had always been obsessed with his position and rank. So Antek hadn't found it peculiar that he had ordered Arthur to kneel before him. Albeit the young Prince had been a hostage in name only, decorum was still important; otherwise the gesture of Arthur's stay at Llanfair would have been worthless. Actually, Arthur's refusal had pricked Antek as an unnecessary and provocative insult. When Llanfair had given order to restrain Arthur and to force him to his knees, Antek had found that a little harsh but not really out of the ordinary under the circumstances. He had swallowed the protest he had had already on his lips, albeit one look at Arthur's face had told him that the Prince had expected some kind of help from a man he had once considered to be a good friend.

Now Antek knew that the scene should have warned him of what was to come. This very night he should have picked up Arthur and they both should have run like hell. Instead Antek had left for the border countries in the morning on his father's orders. He had rode off without so much as thinking of what might happen to the young prisoner he left behind, completely at the madman's mercy and, as Antek now knew, without any hope for help or protection from anywhere, especially from Camelot. Small wonder that Arthur hadn't been led by wisdom and calculation in his dealings with the old Count.

Antek cursed himself for his negligence and naiveté. Now he had to find an argument that somehow would go beyond Arthur's embitterment and convince him to accept the lesser of two evils. "Arthur, I'm sorry, but I can't let you go free. Even if I did, you wouldn't come very far. Once recaptured by my father's men you would go to the dungeons for good. I tried to argue with my father, but it was to no avail. Don't you remember what you once told me of _your_ father? That he never won an argument with you but that he had only to give an order in the end to win the fight?"

Arthur kept silent and Antek continued softly "I hear you tried to run away to help your sorcerer friends. How far did you come before your father had you dragged back to Camelot against your will? Three months he held you prisoner before he sent you here to get rid of you."

This finally got him Arthur's attention but when Antek saw his friend's face he cursed his cruelty. However he had to strike while the iron was hot; or his brutality would have been in vain. "Don't stare like a moonstruck calf. Of course we keep ourselves informed on what happens in Camelot. Now tell me, even if I were to set you free, where would you go? Only in Camelot you would be safe from my father's henchmen and what makes you sure that you would be welcomed there?" Inwardly he cringed in shame at the ferocious lie.

Touched to the quick Arthur fought with all his strength to stay calm. "If you are telling me that I should accept your father's offer to come over to him and crawl under his feet on King Uther's expense, forget it. No matter what Uther did, I'll never betray Camelot."

Antek shook his head. "No, that's not what I meant. Anyway, my father no longer insists on his first demand but he does insist that you fulfil the terms of the original agreement." The young Count drew a deep breath. It was now or never. "Forgive me my friend" he thought. "You are to become my servant or he will torture you until you beg to be allowed to crawl to him on your belly. You know full well that he will break you in the end."

Arthur only stared at him, as if struck by lightning. Antek's voice became more urgent. "Arthur, please, we don't have all day. They may already be on their way. There is no limit to what my father could do to you. The man is insane, hopelessly and totally insane. Merco knows it, I know it and Lucius knows it but none of us will convince the others to go against his will. They fare much too well with him. He doesn't care whether they betray him, whether they steal his property or laugh at us behind our backs, as long as they support his crusade against the Pendragons. Please, you have to come with me. I know I can't offer you much protection, sometimes I can't even protect myself in this madhouse, but anything would be better than to go back to this hell-hole and his claws. We have to buy you _time, _don't you see that?" In his despair Antek gripped his friend's upper arms to shake him out of his paralysis.

Somewhere in Arthur's mind Antek's last words found an echo. Time, time, one needed time to rescue a friend. Memories of Merlin in Camelot's torture chamber flooded his mind, together with pictures of his own time in Llanfair's prison. He knew with perfect clarity that he wouldn't stand a second spell under the Count's hands. This time there wouldn't be a magic intervention. Camelot's cavalry wouldn't come to the rescue in the very last moment. He had only himself to cling to and maybe the young man in front of him. Suddenly the stiff neck lost his strength. Antek knew that he had won when Arthur's head rested on his shoulder for a second. Without looking at his friend, the Prince surrendered. "All right then. I accept. As long as I am not forced to go against Camelot or King Uther I'll be your servant. I will follow your orders, I won't try to escape or fight back. You have my word, for all it is worth."

Considerably relieved Antek hugged him fiercely until Arthur, with his body still sore in some points, silently winced with pain. "It's worth a world to me, believe me. Oh, thank heaven you saw reason in the end."

Arthur looked at Antek's suddenly radiant face and broad smile. While he tried his best to show some joy he thought that he had never known how difficult it might be to smile while one tried to gulp down the bile that burned in one's throat. The thought struck him that perhaps Merlin had done this more than once, behind this goofy smile of his, when Arthur's bantering and sarcasm at his expense had once again crossed the borderline between funny and painful. What would the young warlock-in-disguise say if he were here now? "That's the fate of a servant" perhaps. Or "you better get used to this."

For the split of a second the memory of his magic friend was so vivid that Arthur imagined he could see and hear him. "Arthur, what are you doing? How often did I tell you to be more careful with the really big statements? Arthur, can you hear me? Can't you see that I am there with you?" The urge to run to his friend and to think that all of this had been only a nightmare was almost irresistible. But then the impression vanished into thin air and Arthur was once more alone with the dark castle walls and young Antek as his only feeble hope to come through this somehow.

"Merlin, what has become of you and Gaius? Where are you now?" the wrought up young man thought desperately while he followed his new 'master' to his rooms. "Why on earth couldn't you be by the lakeside, you clumsy idiot of a magician?"


	12. The turning of the screw

12 The turning of the screw

Alone in his bedroom, all doors and windows securely locked from the inside, Uther Pendragon crumbled the parchment he held in his hand and bent over. Nausea and sickness turned his stomach. With cold sweat covering his body he fought against the urge to puke. His eyes were oblivious to his surroundings while his mind once more conjured up horrible pictures of his son. Arthur's tormented body, his screams and hopeless pleas had filled the King's days and nights since Llanfair's first letter had arrived. The images had been - and still were - so real that Arthur might have been in the next room.

Llanfair had turned the screw carefully, slowly. Step-by-step the letters had become more detailed, more vivid in their descriptions and more focused on Arthur's reactions to what Llanfair did as well as on the instruments he used. Llanfair's perverted literary mastery had been that great that even the weeks Arthur had spent in Merco's care hadn't been a respite for his father. While the old Count had described Arthur's recovery he had also found a gruesome joy in describing how much nearer this recovery brought his victim to the inevitable return to Llanfair's dungeons. Finally running out of material the Count had invented conversations with his prisoner that, for the finesse of their cruelty, were in no way inferior to what he had originally written. They seemed perfectly realistic, at least to Uther.

During the first weeks the King still had had his hopes to cling to. But all discussions and deliberations had led nowhere. Even the cleverest military plan to infiltrate Blackrock Castle and spring out the Prince would need more time than it would take a Llanfair soldier to cut the prisoner's throat. Uther had tried to negotiate his son's freedom, first with the retreat from the border countries, then with the ransom payments. Every time Camelot had hoped that this would be it, that Arthur would at least be treated humanely, if not freed. After Llanfair had taken the money in exchange for another letter, Uther, without telling anything to anyone, had twice offered his own life in exchange for his boy. The answers had been humiliating, to say the least. Why release the boy if he was the key to destroy both Pendragons with one strike?

Now Uther had the 13th and so far last letter in his hands. It was comparatively plainly written and concentrated mostly – but not exclusively – on the facts. The King however could read between the lines. Sensitized by what he had read so far and knowing his child he didn't need much information to imagine what it must have cost his son to submit to Antek's demands. What they must have done to him to bring him that low.

Uther cursed himself that he had ever relied on Arthur's opinion that young Llanfair was his friend. The thought that Antek had actually succeeded in forcing a Pendragon under his heel frenzied the proud King beyond reason. Llanfair had cleverly concealed by which _means_ Antek had achieved Arthur's submission and as a consequence his own speculations terrorized the King more than even the most detailed description of a real torture could have done.

The Count had also given some subtle hints as to what it _meant_ to be Antek's servant and carefully scattered them in the letter. Uther's overwrought brain conjured up wild interpretations and, exactly as Llanfair had anticipated, his imagination was much more barbarian than the old Count, let alone poor innocent Antek, could have been. In his despair the King completely forgot that he had been the first who had changed Llanfair's essentially childish threat of enslaving Uther's son into a weapon to break Arthur's obstinate will.

As always the first frantic rage passed and left a state of numb and hopeless remorse behind in which Uther knew that he had nowhere and nobody left to turn to. Only now he realized what Gaius had been to him. That he had always been there to advise, to comfort or to cheer up.

Meanwhile Uther had begun to dread encounters with his courtiers, knights, soldiers or even his servants. The frequent Council Meetings had become an ordeal. The same applied to the audiences.

When he had first realized that the contents of the letters he received were well known to almost everybody he had been secretly relieved. He had always taken it for granted that the majority of his people felt as he did, perhaps not for their King but definitely for their young Prince. The first sneer, the first signs of gloating at Arthur's fate had been a horrible surprise. Paranoid and misanthropic as Uther was he never would have thought that one of his own men could be cruel and base enough to actually relish in the torturing of a young man only for some jealousy or grudge he might bear against the boy's father. And yet the gloating was unmistakably there.

There were other signs that Uther's rule was falling apart. It had begun when Arthur had been almost killed in this fiasco by the lake. Uther's approach to the whole matter hadn't exactly increased his popularity and now Llanfair's doings, as well as the fact that the King had been foolish enough to present Camelot's Prince to the old wolf on a silver platter, added to the initial discontent. Six months had been enough to undo what a lifetime of work and dedication had built up. Pendragon had lost the trust of Camelot.

The furtive looks of his old courtiers and civil servants had shown him that they held him, and him alone, responsible for everything that had befallen their adored Prince. They had seen his first steps. Heard his first words. Now they had to stand by while he was torn to pieces. They knew who was to blame for that.

Then there were the calculating, scheming faces of his barons and nobles. "A Crown without an heir is bound to fail" he heard them think. "There will be civil war after the old man is done for. Better look for another, younger King now, before it is too late."

The knights and soldiers' thoughts were also abundantly clear. "The old dragon is senile and the young one is as good as dead. Why not search for a strong leader before we all bite the dust in a war that can't be won?"

The knights mourned their Commander; the guard soldiers mourned their dead or humiliated comrades; the poor and - even more - the rich mourned the outrageous money the treasury had pressed from them to pay the useless ransom.

Pinned to every grudge, to every doubt and every apprehension was a label naming the guilty perpetrator and all labels named the same person: Uther Pendragon. The fool who had been sufficiently blinded by spite, jealousy and hurt pride to gamble the life of his only child on a few words and oaths a mortal enemy had scribbled on a piece of parchment. No guarantees asked, no securities demanded.

Not that Uther had lacked ample warning. Lucius had reported more than once that the Count showed signs of insanity which limited his trustworthiness. But then Lucius bore an irrational grudge against Llanfair since the old Count had relieved him from active duty and made him a gaoler, a job which Lucius thoroughly despised as dishonourable. The old war dog hadn't much appetite for tormenting a chained and defenceless prisoner. Uther had thought more than once about recalling Lucius. Another man would perhaps achieve a higher position at Llanfair's Court that ensured better access to vital information. So Lucius' urgent warnings had been ignored. Anyway, His Grace the King of Camelot had been too busy conjuring up punishments for his son to think of anything as trivial as safeguards against a possible betrayal from Llanfair. Now no sword, no trick, no earthly power could help this son. Or his father.

Camelot's King rose and faced the big mirror that stood in one corner of his bedroom. He scrutinized the image he saw in there. "That's all what's left of you, Your Majesty" he said. "A complete failure. As a King and as a father. Warily he shook his head. "What a life's work."

He went back to the table under the window and took up his sword scabbard. He partly unsheathed the blade and looked at it thoughtfully, captivated by the lights that danced on the golden hilt and the inlaid jewels. They seemed to draw him towards them, promising an easy way out of his hopeless predicament. Just one short pain and then – rest, sleep, eternal peace. The promise was so very alluring. Gods, when had he last slept through a night? Must have been more than six months since. Ever since Arthur......

Suddenly Uther imagined hearing his son call out for him and this broke the spell the lights had cast. Resolutely the blade was sheathed. This wasn't a solution. If he was to end his life it would be for a purpose. If Llanfair scorned Uther's offers there would be others who would accept them with pleasure. Perhaps they were even willing to pay a price for the peace and security they would doubtlessly enjoy if he were dead and Arthur sat on the throne of Camelot. Uther was willing to clutch at any straw and an absurd idea came into his exhausted mind.

He had used magical help to bring his son into this world. Arthur's life had begun with magic when his mother's life had been ended by this same magic. Uther's ensuing purge of magic was the underlying reason for Arthur being in mortal danger now. Perhaps things had come full circle. Perhaps only magic would save Arthur's life now if Uther were sacrificed in turn. Wouldn't that be some kind of poetic justice? "At any rate that will be better than dying for nothing" Uther thought.

The King wrote down some instructions and left them on the table, plainly visible for everyone who entered the room. He packed a small backpack, changed his clothes and left the room by a back door which normally was bolted. Some habits from his old days as a wandering knight he had kept. He always liked to have a door which wasn't ceremonially guarded.

Nobody recognized the man with the hood of his shabby old coat drawn deeply into his face on his way to Arthur's stables. Uther had given order to keep the animals in good condition, as if this could ensure that their owner would come back to them. He saddled one of the strongest mounts and galloped out of the Castle before anyone could ask his name or whereabouts. The guards didn't think much of it. Discipline, together with many other things, had declined and become lax. There were many people now who left Camelot for good, to seek greener and most of all safer pastures elsewhere. Step by step the doomed realm tumbled downwards.

Some hours later Uther had reached the old Roman road that led to the outlying woodlands. The last intelligence he had had on the matter before Camelot had found a new calendar that begun with Merlin's arrest had said that the people Uther had wanted were to be found there.

The King of Camelot had started his quest for the help of the people he had hunted down like animals for many years. His instincts told him that they would know where to find a young sorcerer that once had sworn he would do anything, would give anything to protect Arthur Pendragon. The young sorcerer who had drunk Nimue's poison that had been meant to kill Camelot's Prince and not his servant. Uther would find him and tell him what had happened and after that Camelot would have a new King. It was that simple. He had only to find the boy with whom it had all begun. And if he would find Gaius in the process as well as an opportunity to make his peace with the old healer before it was all over he wouldn't be averse.

Miles away, in some well sheltered Druid village in the outlying woodlands, Merlin opened his eyes and groaned. "At last" he thought "I thought I'd never reach him."


	13. In the Druids' village

13 In the Druids' village

Merlin tried to get up, but couldn't. His head ached as if it would burst. He looked at the troubled faces of his friends and tried to smile. Gaius, Gwen and Leon sighed with relief. Gaius patted his nephew's hand affectionately.

Arenboarth, of course, did no such thing. Such a disgusting show of raw emotionality wouldn't be befitting the last Lord Druid of the Blessed Isle. With a very stern frown, the kind he reserved especially for the more hopeless cases, he looked down on his newest apprentice. "What is it? Did you reach Uther? Is he coming? Speak!"

Merlin nodded weakly. "I thought I'd never get into this thick head of his, but now the King is under way. I think two or three weeks more and he will be here." The Lord Druid nodded. Grudgingly he added "well done, Emrys."

"Two or three more weeks and after that we'll need even more time to reach Blackrock Castle. We are west of Camelot and Llanfair's stronghold lies east of it. We will need another two months at least." Gwen was scandalized. "Has anyone of you thought of what could happen to Arthur in all this time? He needs help _now._ For more than two months they have been tormenting him, and now we shall wait for another eight weeks before we save him?"

"What do we need this mass-murderer for anyway?" Mirella thought. "We could well do without him."

Merlin looked at her sharply. "We need him with us for many reasons. He's Arthur's father. I know the Prince. He would never be the same again if he wouldn't have an opportunity to make it up with Uther. It's not for us to decide whether Arthur reconciles himself with the King or not. And for the umpteenth time, Mirella please have the courtesy to _speak_ your mind as long as people are present who cannot hear your thoughts."

Gaius suppressed a smile. Merlin had definitely learned that tone of voice from Arthur.

"But Gwen is right" Mirella said obstinately. "How long do you think _you_ could stand what Arthur is going through? Shall I call in this soldier whom Leon brought in from Camelot only yesterday, this Marius? Maybe he could fresh up your memory."

For the first time ever Gaius saw his nephew go pale with rage. Headache and weakness forgotten Merlin shot up from the ground and towards Mirella. "I don't need a child to remind me of what my friend is going through" he hissed. "I have been _there_ with him in this godforsaken hell hole, every single time they came for him, so don't you tell me something about freshening up _my memory_."

Leon laid his hand on Merlin's trembling shoulder to calm him down. "Leave her alone, Merlin. She's only worried. We all are."

The magician snorted derisively. "Oh, are you? Well, that's good to hear, albeit your worries come the tiniest bit too late. Where have you noble knights and warriors been when the Pendragons needed you? As far as I know you didn't exactly queue up to keep Llanfair from laying his filthy hands on Arthur, as if the Prince of Camelot were fair game for every lunatic who came his way."

Aghast Leon drew back. He hardly recognized Arthur's kind, gentle manservant in this enraged man. "Merlin, stop it. This isn't fair. The King…."

Merlin's eyes flashed golden and Leon was pushed back hard by an invisible fist. "Don't you dare to shift _all_ the blame to Uther. He didn't know what he was doing. But why didn't you noble knights do your duty and took Arthur by force once he was outside Camelot Castle? For goodness' sake, he _must_ have been afraid of what was waiting for him in Blackrock, maybe he'd followed you willingly in the end. Anyway, he wasn't even _armed._ You could have brought him somewhere safe until his father had regained his wits. The man was beside himself with rage and hurt."

"Yes, Merlin" Gwen said coolly. "And it all started with Arthur trying to save your hide. By the way, where were _you_ that day they caught him by the lake?"

Panting heavily Merlin turned to Gaius, face pleading for help but the physician shook his head. "It's true, Merlin. If we had waited for him as planned he would most probably be here now, safe and sound. Or he would have returned to Camelot voluntarily, showing Uther that he had wanted to save us, not to abandon his father. It might have changed everything."

Tears shot into Merlin's eyes and for once the young sorcerer was rendered speechless.

"_Stop it. All of you, at once._" Arenboarth's commanding voice made them all jump. "These base quarrels are of no use whatsoever to your friend."

When they all looked down to their feet the Lord Druid continued "It is necessary for Uther to think that coming to us for help was his idea, and his alone. Therefore he must search for us. If Merlin were to plant more details into the King's head he might smell a rat. We know from Merlin's last mental contact with Arthur as well as from what Marius told us that the Prince is more or less safe for the moment, at least physically. I know it'll be hard for him but he'll just have to hang on. And as for Uther's participation in Arthur's rescue – may I once more remind you that neither I, nor my daughter Mirella, nor any other Druid will take part in any violent acts. Leon's knights and soldiers must be led by a swordsman and whatever grudges they may bear against the man, in the end they will listen to their King much more than to anybody else."

He looked around but met no opposition from anyone. "As Blackrock lies in King Kendred's realm, Uther, Leon and the other warriors wouldn't have a chance to reach the castle undetected and unrestrained. The Druids will help you get there and their magic will support your escape or heal your wounds, but that's as far as it goes. This is Pendragon business. All of you have at some time worn the Pendragon crest; that makes it your business too, but not ours. We are in this only because Emrys is a part of us and Arthur is a part of him. Together they will form our future as well as yours but that doesn't mean that we are willing to betray everything we hold sacred."

Arenboarth looked from one to the other but no one found anything to reply. "Gaius, you should take this bunch of illogical hot heads to the kitchen tent. Maybe they can gulp down their inopportune feelings with some food. Mirella, you go with them. Emrys, come with me."

Once outside the impromptu cottage Merlin looked up to Arenboarth while they walked towards the forest, away from the village. Intimidated by the stern, dissatisfied face he thought it best to make amends, even though he didn't know for what. "I am sorry" he offered, unsure whether this was what the Druid wanted to hear. The older man just walked on as if he hadn't heard.

"Look, I said I am sorry" Merlin tried again. "What else should I say?"

Arenboarth turned around so abruptly that Merlin backed off a step. "No, Emrys you _aren't_ sorry although you should be, very sorry. It was a disgrace what you did in there and I am ashamed I ever took you on as my apprentice."

"What did I do?" Merlin asked meekly.

"You do not even _know_? Emrys, you attacked Leon when he told you something you didn't want to hear. You misused your magic to intimidate him, to _subdue_ a human being by force, just to spare yourself the inconvenience to hear him out." The Druid walked on, his strides angry. "To be honest, _Merlin_, I fear for your royal friend when he's with you again."

This hit Merlin on a raw nerve. "I would never hurt Arthur, never, you know I wouldn't" he replied hotly. "How can you say such a thing?"

"Actually, I say he wouldn't be better off with you in your present state of mind than he would be in Llanfair's hands."

Merlin felt the ground shake under his feet and the air was driven from his lungs. Speechless he stared at the Druid's unforgiving face.

"Don't you see, you stupid child, that in your arrogance you already _have_ done harm to your friend? You are so damned proud of your powers that you feel secretly superior to everybody else and you are very much in love with this superiority. _That's _why you left the lake without the Prince. To show him who's master between the two of you. Arthur must have sensed this in you when he thought you laughed at him behind his back."

"That's not true. I only wanted to keep him safe." Merlin didn't want to give in although he knew he had already lost the argument.

Arenboarth sighed. "Emrys, be honest with yourself, if not with me. If it hadn't been for Arthur's intention to take the lethal poison on your behalf, if it hadn't been for his grand speeches that you couldn't manage your escape without his help, would you have left him behind?

Merlin couldn't look at his teacher. Slowly, very slowly, he shook his head.

"But that's my point. Albeit untrained, your magic is extremely powerful. But how you wield it is subject to your whims. As soon as you knew that you no longer had to conceal it from Arthur you let go of every restraint. Emrys, he's going to be a _King_ someday. What do you think he should be called? Arthur, by the grace of Merlin King of Camelot?"

But… but I'd never…..

"No buts and ifs, young warlock. I saw your quarrel when I first entered your mind. He said it himself. You could have him completely at your mercy, any time, anywhere, with a gesture of your little finger. His bones aren't different from those of the bandits you killed in these ruins, they break as easily and they hurt as much when they do. What are you going to do next time Arthur wants to push something through; treat him like you treated Leon a few minutes ago? Chain him to a wall and force him to submit? Or will you find some other way to break him until he at least feigns the adoration you crave?"

Merlin's lips were white by now and his face was drained of all blood. "If that's what you take me for, why am I still here? Come to think of it, _why_ _am _I still here?"

He turned to go but the Lord Druid gripped his shoulder. "Emrys, this is important and you _will_ listen to me. An evil sorcerer with your powers is the most dangerous enemy imaginable. That's what you could become if you aren't careful. Llanfair tortures and terrorises your friend just because Arthur is there and can't defend himself. The Count exploited _one_ moment of weakness in Uther to get what he wanted and now all power over the Pendragons is his. A moment ago all power over Leon was yours. You used it against him, just as Llanfair is using his power over Arthur, without thinking, without consideration, he does what he does because he wants to. Because he _can_ do it and get away with it. Don't you see the evil in that?"

With a violent jerk Merlin pulled free from Arenboarth's grip and backed off. "I will not stand here and listen to you comparing me to this monster that torments my friend. _My friend_, you hear me? But why keep trying to explain anything to you. The only voice you want to hear is your own."

"Emrys! Emrys, come back, at once" Arenboarth shouted but Merlin didn't stop until he had reached the kitchen tent. Leon and Mirella had found some other occupation, most probably together, but Gaius and Gwen were still there. As always the other Druids gave Merlin a wide berth when they sensed he needed it.

"Merlin, what happened?" Gwen asked. "You look horrible. Is it because of what I said? Oh, I am so sorry. I didn't mean it like that."

Merlin felt as if he had just been released from a burning pyre. He wiped his face with his hand and did his best to manage one of his famous 'all-is-for-the-best-in-the-best-of-all-possible-worlds' smiles. "Never mind" he said. "It has nothing to do with you or Gaius. It's just that I couldn't stand Arenboarth's lectures any more."

With a perusing look at his nephew Gaius pushed over one of the food bowls that stood on the table. "Seems to me you too have to gulp down some inopportune feelings, my boy."

Merlin shrugged.

"Merlin, the man is your teacher. You agreed to be his apprentice to learn to control your magic and to use it with more purpose and strength. In former times a young magician would have craved the opportunity to be lectured by the Lord Druid himself."

"That' doesn't mean I have to bear everything he says silently, does it?" Merlin was up for another fight if needs be.

"Yes, Merlin, that's exactly what it means." Gaius was becoming exasperated now. "You have no idea who Arenboarth really is, do you? Some thirty years ago not even Uther would have dared to behave like that when he was on the Blessed Isle as Arenboarth's ward." The moment he had said it, Gaius cursed his loose tongue, but it was too late. Gwen and Merlin were in a speed contest for pricking their ears and opening their mouths to pelt him with questions. Gwen won.

"King Uther was _what_ on which island? Why? And what has this to do with Merlin? Or with Arthur being in danger now?"

"Trust her to come back to the only subject she's really interested in" Gaius thought. "Sorcerers, Druids, lunatics or secrets from the past, she gives a damn. She only cares for _him_ and for nothing else."

"Well then" the physician said "I think it's time for a history lesson. The Blessed Isle was the spiritual and intellectual centre of the old religion. The temples were ruled by a High Priestess as a representative of the Great Mother and by the Lord Druid as a representative of the male element in the world. Almost thirty years ago these leaders were Nimue and Arenboarth. They were responsible for the training and education of young magicians but also for the persecution of dark magicians or other evil doers. They were also responsible for the education of high ranking young nobles from the five kingdoms who should learn the religious ways of their people before they took over the regency from their predecessors. These nobles were called the 'wards'. At that time, 24 years old Uther Pendragon wasn't especially interested in the "religious stuff", as he called it, but he had no choice if he wanted to marry Igraine. A Queen of the old religion marrying a foreigner was weird enough but that this foreigner was a sceptic, a non-believer in the old religion was an impossibility. So even proud young Pendragon had to become Arenboarth's ward for a year. Actually that's where we first met, as I was a healer-in-training in the Isle's medical temple back then. My goodness, Uther was the most arrogant royal prat one could imagine. What are you laughing at?"

Indeed, in spite of all his troubles and fears Merlin guffawed for all he was worth at the last remark. "Being a prat must run in the family then."

Gaius frowned punitively at the young man before he continued. "Prince Uther, as he then was, was fascinated by the power of magic but I doubt he ever heard a word of what Arenboarth taught about its dangers. When I look back I think that Uther always saw magic as a kind of weird weapon he could wield or sheath at will. Not even at 25 he would have believed that there could be anyone or anything in this world that he couldn't control. Until this unfortunate incident that cost his adored wife her life when Arthur was born."

"Arthur was born by _magic_?" Gwen asked incredulously.

"NO!" Gaius and Merlin shouted it in unison. Merlin almost hopped up and down on his seat. "He wasn't. Not at all. No. Arthur never had anything to do with magic before he met me" the magician continued while Gaius muttered something inaudible which, with some ill will, could have been interpreted as "at least not to his knowledge".

Gwen looked from one to the other and wisely decided to let the subject rest. "And then?" she asked.

Gaius sighed. "When Uther became King of Camelot it was obvious that the rulers of the Blessed Isle had been somewhat negligent in their duties. You can't persecute dark magic if you stay glued to your comfortable seats on the island. Uther didn't understand magic but he didn't fear it either. I think he feared nothing at the time. He called me to his Court and together we began to clear out the Augean stables. When Igraine died barely eight years later, Uther somehow lost control and what had been an inevitable measure to keep his realm safe became a nympholepsy. He saw magical enemies everywhere, especially around his child. Finally he had the Blessed Isle destroyed and the Druids were hunted down mercilessly. Uther had understood that they wouldn't fight back, at least not in the sense a Pendragon would define the word 'fight'. But the older Arthur became, the more fanatically his father believed that _all_ magic was evil. It must have been an unendurable shock when he thought that his own son had forsaken him for the friendship of a sorcerer."

Merlin and Gwen silently poked in their food. "But why didn't Arenboarth _stop_ Uther's purge?" Gwen finally asked. "And why is he helping us now? The Pendragons must have killed hundreds of his people, if not thousands."

"While the definition has been, well, let''s say _dilated_ in some cases Druids, as a rule, do not believe in violence, magic or otherwise" Gaius replied. "And for Arenboarth helping us now - why did you persuade Leon to search for the Druids with you?" Wasn't it because you knew that only magic can save Arthur now? _Merlin's_ magic?"

Gwen nodded.

"You see" the physician continued while Merlin's bent face became hotter and hotter with embarrassment "nobody told you that Merlin would be with the Druids. You just knew that he and they belong together. As Arenboarth said, Merlin is a part of them and Arthur is a part of Merlin. As much as you are a part of Arthur, my dear."

Gwen smiled apologetically and patted the healer's hand. "Gaius, forgive me, but that's way beyond my level of spirituality. Besides, this 'parts' business – maybe I just missed a part or two."

Gaius smiled forgivingly and shook his head in silent amusement.

"Let's just say that I and Leon with his men are willing to trust the Druids on your say so" Gwen continued. "I leave all these magic things to Merlin and you, gladly. The only thing I don't understand is _why_ after all this blathering about the power of magic we are still here _doing_ nothing. These monsters are playing with Arthur as a cat plays with a mouse. Why can't we go to Blackrock Castle _now?_ Merlin, why can't you just say some words and the whole damn stronghold crumbles down? We could all go _home_, where we belong."

Merlin shrugged miserably. "That's because at least some of the 'blathering', as you called it, is just that. Blathering. I cannot set the world out of joint with a snap of my fingers."

He gazed shyly at Gwen's imploring face, with a silent plea of his own. "Believe me Gwen, I have done my best to find a way to go there and cut Arthur out, just like that. I did it before when he faced bandits, beasts or opponents who had been resurrected from the grave. But this time – I don't know but something is wrong."

He stared down into his food bowl, searching for a way to explain to her what he still didn't fully comprehend himself. "You see, Gwen, when I try to reach another person or to see a place in my mind it's as if I went through a door to a grey, vast, open plain. Normally I find what I am looking for on this plain. But it's different here. Whenever I am able to reach Arthur it's as if I opened the door and there I am, somewhere in Blackrock Castle. I have no control whatsoever, I can't roam the place at will as I usually can since Arenboarth taught me what to do. I am stuck where Arthur is in this very moment. As soon as I lose him it's as if I am kicked out of the stronghold altogether. It feels as if somebody pulled me in to see what Arthur sees, to hear what he hears, to feel what he feels but then they grab him and drag him away from me."

Merlin looked at Gwen for some signs of understanding. "I am absolutely sure that there is no way to enter the castle by magic. At any rate it'll need an army to free Arthur by force and that would surely be his death. Whether we use magic or weapon's force to free him, we can only do it if he is _outside_ of Blackrock. The castle walls isolate the building against almost everything except my mental eyes and ears. But even so, I can only make contact with Arthur when he thinks of me with some intensity. So far that was mostly the case when they tortured him." The reverie made the young warlock shudder. "You see, that's why it would be no use to go there without Uther. He's the only person I can think of who might be able either to get me _in_ or Arthur _out_ of Blackrock, maybe by some ruse, or some trade, I don't know......" His voice trailed off when he saw the doubts in Gwen's face. "After all, we know Llanfair wants to destroy Uther. Arthur is only a means to this end. Llanfair made this very clear while he put his captive through the wringer" Merlin finished with some defiance.

Gwen bit her lip in remorse. "Merlin, I do not doubt you. If you say there's nothing you can do right now, I believe you. But couldn't you at least let Arthur know that we are going to help him? It'll be much easier for him to hang on if he knew that he isn't alone, if he had some hope." She saw Gaius bent his head and felt tears sting in her eyes. "The two of you know him as well as I do. Without a last resort he could grab the next available weapon and get himself killed or take his own life."

Merlin thought that if he had to listen to this a minute longer he'd certainly go mad. "Gwen, do you really think I wouldn't have tried to give him hope if I could? But I can't. I can see him, hear him and even feel with him, but it's a one way street. I don't even know whether I reach him or if someone _wants_ me to witness how completely and hopelessly he is at Llanfair's non existing mercy. There was one split of a second while he was with this dumb-ass Antek in which I thought he might have heard me, maybe even seen me, but even then he didn't _answer_. I lost him immediately afterwards and since then I haven't been able to contact him at all. If he messed it up with Llanfair's son Arthur could be dead or wounded or back in the dungeons for all I know. Now there's the almighty warlock for you." Merlin's voice had become louder and louder towards the end. Now it became distraught.

"And you are right, and Arenboarth is right, you all are right. If it hadn't been for me abandoning him by the lake nothing of this would have happened. Nothing blocked my magic there, even if the Camelot Guard had been there to arrest him, they wouldn't have had a chance to touch him. So it's all my fault. My fault alone. Now are you content?"

Merlin ran away from his two scandalized friends towards the forest with tears of anger and despair running all over his face. He shot by Arenboarth without seeing him. The magician ran at top speed until he fell down into the grass and cried his heart out.

Arenboarth reached Gaius and Gwen who still sat at their table as if banned to their seats by shocked surprise. Gaius' face was suddenly very doubtful, as if somebody or something had made him very suspicious.

"He's taking it hard" the Lord Druid said. "Since he's here he has seen a first glimpse of what his magic really can do, how powerful it is. Now he sees the limits of his powers. It's a hard lesson for every young sorcerer and not the kind of lesson one should learn with the life of one's best friend at stake."

"Oh, spare us the sanctimonious speeches" Gaius said in sudden anger. "Is there really nothing we could do to speed this up? That would be the only thing that would really help Merlin, let alone Arthur. At least it would be more helpful than you telling my boy that all of this is his fault."

Arenboarth shook his head. "If I remember correctly, the two of you said just the same to Merlin. And no, there is nothing we can do right now. One wrong step and all we will find is Arthur's corpse. Or we will find him but with a knife at his throat that renders us helpless. A failed rescue would make things even worse for him. Much worse. All my senses tell me that neither sword nor magic will achieve anything alone. For the combination of both powers we need Uther at our side. To finish what he started Llanfair must have _both_ Pendragons in _one_ place. That's as far as my abilities as a seer take me in this. Everything else is covered in mist."

"Except the fact that there is an opportunity in this for you. There is no mist covering that, it's as clear as a pikestaff." Gaius cutting, sarcastic voice made Gwen flinch. "An opportunity to force the King to his knees by his dependency on you and the Druid's magic to save his child. An opportunity to end Uther's crusade against the Druids once and for all without going against your precious ideals of non-violence. After all it's easy to be a saint if others do your dirty work for you. In this case this would be Uther's sword and Merlin's magic while you could wash your hands of it. Llanfair's doings even saved you the trouble to lay _your_ hands on Uther's son. Do not insult my intelligence by telling me you never even thought of taking Arthur hostage yourself."

Gwen turned to the Lord Druid. "Is that true? Do you really have an interest in delaying things until you succeed in luring Uther here, to use Arthur's misery for your own ends? I thought at least Merlin meant something to you." Her voice was dangerously calm.

Arenboarth didn't lower his gaze. "I do not deny that I have an agenda of my own in this. I thought more than once about taking Arthur prisoner, to keep my people save. I didn't do it for fear that the Prince might get hurt, which doubtlessly would have turned Merlin into an unforgiving enemy. And I _do_ see an opportunity to end Uther's insane purge. But I swear to you, by all I ever held sacred in my life, if I saw any chance to free young Pendragon right now, I'd take it. Nobody should suffer like that. However, things must run their course until the time is right. Llanfair's whole being, all his thoughts and plans revolve around his obsession to destroy Uther Pendragon, his realm and his bloodline. This obsession is the monster's single weakness."

Still, Gaius wasn't satisfied but Gwen cut both men short. "Stop it Gaius. It's no use. We need him and his people to save Arthur. We have no other choice but to believe him. So we'll play the game by his rules. We will wait for Uther to come to us on his own accord."

She turned to the Lord Druid. "But I swear to you, should we lose Arthur or Merlin because you misguided us in any way, you will live to regret it. I do not fear your magic, I give a damn for your grand title or your glorious past. If I am going to lose my beloved or my friend I _will_ find you. And nothing, absolutely nothing in this world will prevent me from cutting your heart out."

Arenboarth scrutinized her determined face, her fiery eyes for a moment. Then he bowed. "That's how it shall be, My Lady. I accept."

Guinivere nodded curtly, then she turned and went away, head erect, shoulders tightened, not a single trace of Morgana's gentle handmaiden to be seen in the fierce woman she had become.

Lord Druid and healer stared after her. "What a Queen she is going to be" Arenboarth said. "Aye" Gaius replied thoughtfully. "She'll make a fine Pendragon. If her King is going to live."


	14. A desperate plea

14 A desperate plea

"What did he do to you this time?" Antek grabbed his servant by the arm. "I demand an answer. What did he do to you?"

"Let it rest" Arthur said wearily. "It has been much worse before today. I'll live."

For a moment they just looked at each other. Both handsome, of same age, same built, same height they could well have been related, except for Pendragon being fair skinned with sky blue eyes and blond hair while Antek had large green eyes in a honey-skinned face under a heavy jet black mane.

The young Count didn't want to let the subject rest. "Let me guess. The moment I had left the castle my father send for you again, to serve at his table, didn't he?"

"As I said, I'll live. At least this time he let me go immediately after they all had finished stuffing themselves."

Shuddering Arthur remembered the first time Llanfair had forced him to serve at his table during an official dinner the Count gave for a few high ranking guests from King Kendred's Court. The sight of Camelot's Crown Prince kneeling at Llanfair's side in a page boy's pose had doubtlessly provided the nobles with gossiping material for many a day.

However the worst had come afterwards. Dissatisfied for some unknown reason the old Count had kept the prisoner in his private chambers for three days. Arthur had been subjected to the old man's every whim. His bruises proved Llanfair's efforts to teach the new servant some 'manners'. The usual precautionary restraints and chains had ensured that, even though humiliation and anger _had_ ousted prudence, Arthur couldn't fight back other than with words.

As the Prince had lost his nerves after an especially provoking remark a heated verbal duel had ensued. It had cost him dearly. Llanfair had ordered to keep his captive gagged for the rest of the time. Only in the Count's absence the painfully tight bind and the ball of cloth had been removed. At the time Arthur had thought he'd go mad.

Pendragon was shaken out of his reverie when he felt Antek's hand in his face. "He didn't beat you again, did he?" Arthur shook his head. "No" he said softly. "Not this time. I shouldn't have let him know how I feel when he shows me off like a trophy. My fault."

The young Count's face grew hot with shame. "A fine protection I can offer you for all my grand promises. You might as well be back in this wretched prison cell."

Despite himself, Arthur grinned. "I wouldn't say that. Your rooms would have to be thoroughly redecorated if they were to match the charming atmosphere of my cosy little cell down there."

It was obvious that Antek wasn't pacified and Arthur became serious again. "Antek, please believe me, I thoroughly appreciate the retreat you're giving me. Your father's orders didn't exactly involve me sleeping unrestrained in a room of my own or eating at your table. As you promised, I am free as long as I stay in your rooms. Thanks to you it's Lucius who guards me most of the time I must be outside. You couldn't do more."

The Prince inhaled deeply and decided to go for broke. Either his trust in Antek was justified or his next words would cost him much more than his shabby rest of freedom.

"Besides, I have more important things to talk about. I stood behind Count Llanfair's chair during their nice little dinner talks, when your father and his noble guests discussed who was to be the next Ruler of Camelot, once King Uther was dead and buried. As for obvious reasons I am a Crown Prince Manqué, they agreed on you as the best choice."

Antek paled visibly. "They said _what_?"

Arthur cocked his brow in a light-heartedness that was completely feigned. "As I am his prisoner your father thinks it to be a piece of cake to persuade Camelot's Crown Council to make you regent. After some time, once you have been accepted as their ruler, Llanfair plans to 'persuade' Camelot's nobles to declare you King."

"And what about _you_?"

"Most probably I would find it somewhat difficult to protest against your coronation from my grave."

"What did you say to that?" Antek knew he sounded foolish but he was too confused to care.

The Prince actually managed a derisive smile. "Me? I didn't say anything, I had to serve the dinner, remember?"

"For heaven's sake, _Arthur_!"

Pendragon gave up the pretence. "Antek, they _knew_ I was there and they enjoyed my helplessness much more than their roast pork in Burgundy wine. Do you really expect me to add to their amusement by showing them how I feel? Besides, I do have more pressing problems."

Arthur continued with more urgency. "Llanfair is an old man, he's at least ten years older than the King. The whole plan is going to work only during your father's lifetime. Soon he will make _sure_ that Uther predeceases him."

Antek's face had become unreadable, withdrawn. "And why should I be interested in that?"

Inwardly Arthur prayed as he had never prayed before. "Antek, I know you won't set me free and I accept that. But this is different. It'll work only with your consent and full cooperation. You could just refuse. After all, your father can't drag you to Camelot's Crown Council by force. You could also warn King Uther anonymously that a conspiracy against his life is under way. There's so much you can do to prevent this." Arthur swallowed. "Please, Antek, I beg of you. Don't you see? They are going to _murder_ my _father._"

"That's the first time I hear you call him that." The young Count sounded definitely snappy.

"Hear me call him what?" Arthur asked perturbed.

"You never called him father before, you always said 'Uther' or 'the King' when you spoke of him at all."

"That's because he forbade me to call him father when last we saw each other in private. Please, Antek. I must know whether you are going to help me."

"Help _him_, you mean. After all he did to you, just because you wanted to help a friend. And what would your father do to Llanfair, to _my_ father, to our estate if he had the chance to take revenge?"

Arthur knew he had lost. Queasiness constricted his throat and he closed his eyes. He only looked up when he heard metal clanking. In utter disbelieve he stared at the handcuffs the young Count held up. The same handcuffs Llanfair had had sent up to his son's rooms on Arthur's first day there, to restrain the new 'servant' during the nights. Back then Antek had refused to touch them, let alone use them.

"Cross your wrists behind your back."

"Antek,, don't. Please don't do this to me. I gave you my word never to fight you."

"Not even to save your precious monster of a King? I am sorry, but I don't believe you. Now do as I say or should I call for my father's guards?"

Arthur thought of the distance between this room and the castle's outer gate. How many guards between here and the stables, how many between the stables and the final exit to the meadow in front of Blackrock? A dozen? Perhaps two dozen altogether? Blackrock wasn't Camelot. The stronghold was constantly on alert. Doubtlessly every single soldier had the same orders when it came to Arthur Pendragon. Restrain him, hurt him as much as you want but if you kill him it'll cost you your head.

"Why on earth......" Arthur began to say but Antek interrupted him brusquely.

"I said, cross your wrists behind your back, now!"

Silently, Pendragon complied with the order. Antek shackled his hands and pushed him forward. "Move!" Once in the little room he slept in Arthur made a last attempt. "Antek, don't leave me like that. You said you are my friend."

"And as a friend I advise you to stay quiet in here, _very_ quiet. I know you detest being gagged even more than being restrained but if you scream or kick up a breeze I'll _have _you gagged, I promise." With that Antek shut the door.

The night seemed to drag along endlessly. Arthur racked his brain for another way to convince Antek, but he knew it would all be in vain. Finally, in spite of his bound hands, he drifted off to sleep.

The young captive awoke when the door bolts were withdrawn sometime in the small hours. He tried to get up and winced at the pain in his stiff shoulders and arms. Before he could react he felt a warm hand gently cover his mouth.

"Arthur, be quiet, it's me" Antek whispered.

The young Count unlocked the handcuffs and pulled them off. Then he threw a somewhat ridiculous light blue riding coat and a pair of blue boots in Arthur's lap. "Pull them on, quickly. Don't forget to pull the hood over your head."

Pendragon didn't get it. "What...." but Antek once again silenced him. "Later. Now pull them on and follow me. Make haste."

Unseen, they made their way to the stables where the young Count pulled out two already saddled horses and tossed one of the bridles to Arthur. Pendragon recognized the strong white stallion. Sir Badagere's favourite horse. Sir Badagere whose funny preference for light blue clothes was well known throughout Blackrock Castle.

The two young men galloped out of the castle while Antek shouted a merry salute to the guard at the gate. They took the path straight through the dense forest between Blackrock and the main road that led west.

After a ride of roughly an hour Antek reigned in his horse to a slow jog trot and Arthur followed suit. "Now would you care to explain to me what we are doing here?" the Prince demanded to know. "Last night I thought you were going to take me back to the dungeons yourself and now you take me for a little outing."

Antek looked guilty but smiled at the same time. "Don't tell me you do not enjoy being in the open after you have been caged for so long. As to our destination – well, I've decided to take you home. Looks as if we are going to Camelot together."

Arthur felt anger rise in him. "Antek, what's all this about? Do you really think I'd fall for that after what happened last night?"

The Count sobered up somewhat. "I am sorry I rough-handled you. I didn't know what to do. Frankly, I didn't believe you. The story you told me was _too_ weird, even for my father and his so called friends."

"What changed your mind then?" With all his heart Arthur wanted to believe that this was truly it. That he never would see Blackrock again but he didn't dare. Not yet.

Antek drew a deep breath. "Last night I met Lucius. He asked me how you coped with what both of you had overheard during this vexed dinner and at last my penny dropped. I said I had been forced to lock you up, bound and gagged; otherwise someone might have heard you and informed my father about your atrocious behaviour. I would release you once you had calmed down. Then I visited my father who for once seemed to be genuinely glad to see me. We chatted a while and then I told him I was to go on a two or three days hunting trip with Badigere, leaving you at your guards' tender mercy. The Count was enthusiastic about the notion and we parted as real friends."

Arthur, despite himself, had to suppress a smile when Antek grimaced before he continued. "I then went to see Sir Badigere, who, as expected, was stone drunk. I told his servant that his master was to take a remedy against his sickness, twice daily for the next three days, otherwise my father would kick the good-for-nothing knight out of the castle. On my way out I swiped the coat and the boots. I had only three hours of sleep last night before I had to wake you, so don't you dare laugh should I fall from my horse." Antek looked at his friend. "You are still troubled? Do not fear, the remedy I gave to Badagere is a strong sleeping potion Merco gave me once. My father won't miss the old drunkard and it'll do Badagere a world of good to sleep it out thoroughly for once."

Now Arthur had no other choice but to smile. "I'd rather like to know why you originally thought I would make up a story like that."

Antek paled and all smugness and mirth vanished from his features. "I thought you were trying to intimidate me with this stuff of regency or murder and so on. I thought you wanted to trick me into letting you go. I assumed…." Antek's voice trailed off and he avoided looking at Arthur.

"You assumed what?"

The other young knight's answer was very faint, almost inaudible. "I assumed you had somehow found out that I had lied to you."

"What do you mean you lied to me?"

"It was a lie when I told you that you wouldn't be welcomed in Camelot. Uther never gave you up. He had a binding agreement with us on your behalf. My father betrayed Camelot in the most deplorable and brazen way when he lashed into you. Uther's only crime was to tell you this idiotic story about accepting Llanfair's original mock offer to keep you as a slave."

Antek jerked when he heard Arthur's horse whinny in protest against a sharp reigning in. "Arthur you must believe me, I thought I could protect you until the two of us could sort things out, without our fathers' interference. In the meantime I thought you might be, well, easier to handle if you had no hope left ever to go home again. In truth, your father went at great lengths for you."

White faced by barely controlled rage Arthur sat in the saddle and glared at his companion. "What did my father do?"

"Uther gave us the border countries as well as 15.000 gold pieces as a ransom for your release. The Count kept the money in Blackrock's vaults, like you."

"But that's ruinous. Without these assets she will not be able to maintain her army. The realm will be torn apart by her enemies within months." Suddenly Arthur realized what he was saying, and to whom. Bitterness because of his misguided trust swept over him. "But you knew that of course. With this money and the territories in your hands you could just wait for my country to fall into your hands like a ripe fruit." If Arthur had had a weapon in his hand, he would have killed the other man then and there.

Peculiarly this accusation seemed to calm Antek down. "That's perfectly right Arthur, but only as long as you are safely locked up in Blackrock. You may have noticed that this is no longer the case."

For the moment the statement, being at the same time obvious and absurd under the circumstances, rendered the enraged Prince speechless. Antek went on. "Frankly, I give a damn for Camelot and her future. My priorities are clear. I want to keep _my_ estate and its people save. And I want to keep the Llanfair rule as independent as possible from Kendred, Uther or any other predator, royal or otherwise, who squints on our wealth and power. Perhaps we could take your country with one knife stabbed into your father's heart and another pressed to your throat. But the very moment we took over Camelot's Crown all the predators would come together and crush us to dust without as much as one second thought of what this would mean for you, or your people or mine."

"If that's how you see it, why have I been your prisoner for all these months? All this time your father treated me worse than a dog and only now it occurred to you that this might be a bad idea?"

"I didn't know until yesterday that my father planned to put _your_ Crown on_ my_ head." Antek defended himself. "Besides, when I first heard that you had been mistreated, you were almost dead. I was so afraid of the revenge Uther might take that I didn't dare to let you go. But now…."

"Now what?"

Antek pulled all his courage together and looked at Pendragon's cold face. "My father told me, in very high spirit, that Uther no longer is in Camelot. Apparently he has been missing for weeks and nobody knows his whereabouts." He grinned, albeit haltingly. "When we both arrive in Camelot you will be in charge and I trust you are not going to kill me on the spot?"

Arthur needed a moment to stomach what he had just heard. "No" he finally said hoarsely. "I would never hurt you. Not after you gave up everything for my sake. You must know that, once we reach Pendragon land, our situation will be reversed, only that your father will never forgive you. There will be no ransoms for you. With Uther gone it is effectively the King of Camelot you are about to set free. I take it the thought of his hostage's much increased value was responsible for your father's good mood yesterday, especially after he had pulled my leash tight with this little dinner party."

"Would I need to be ransomed if I were with you?" Antek grinned as if there were no cares for him in the world. The smile made Arthur wince with apprehension. For the first time he realized that there were some features and character traits in Antek who reminded him painfully of Merlin. How much say he had had when it had come to Merlin being sentenced to death for a crime he hadn't committed? What would be a suitable punishment for the son of a man who actually _had _committed crimes against Camelot? With Pendragon authority significantly weakened, how eager would the Council Members be to give a show of strength? Arthur knew full well that in Uther's absence the Crown Council's unanimous vote could easily overrule the Crown Prince, especially as everyone would readily believe that Arthur had been forced at knife point to promise the world to Llanfair's son.

As if he had read Arthur's thoughts Antek said "even after Uther's return, which my father didn't rule out, you would have some say in the matter, wouldn't you?"

Arthur's heart missed a beat. "What do you mean, your father didn't rule out Uther's return? What would he know about it?"

Antek shook his head. "I have no clue whatsoever. It only seemed to me that my father had at least some idea of what Uther might be up to and that it wouldn't do him much good."

The young Count watched Arthur fight with these news and obviously with some unwelcome implications. Clumsily he laid his hand on the Prince's shoulder. "Forgive me, my friend, I know you still think the world of him, but it's _you _I care about. Besides, you do not know whether something is amiss with him. Maybe he jumped ship, huh? He hasn't been very popular since people think he turned you in. All the more important that you get things straight in Camelot before the predators swallow your realm lock, stock and barrel. Come to think of it, my estate's chances are ten times better with you being King than with your father on the throne."

In Arthur's mind the pieces of a puzzle came together and snapped into place. With all his power he lunged out and his fist hit Antek's unaware face with full strength. The young man dropped off his horse, knocked out cold. Pendragon dismounted. He checked his victim's pulse and face. When he was sure that, aside from a huge headache, Antek would be fine in a few hours he gasped with relief.

The Prince unsaddled his horse, carried horse tack and provisions some steps away from the path and hid them thoroughly in the dense brushwood. Than he lashed the stallion on his croup and watched him run away at top speed. "At any rate you'll find something better than Sir Badagere no matter where you run" he thought. "If I were you, I'd stay away from Blackrock."

He lifted Antek to his horse and mounted behind him. Than he directed the horse to the east. Back to Blackrock Castle.


	15. Di'inshara

**Dragon Hearts**

15 Di'inshara

Blackrock's gates were closed when Arthur approached the castle but as soon as the single horse with two riders was sighted, they were opened. Out stormed Sir Badagere followed by six guard soldiers on horseback. "That's real red carpet treatment for a prisoner who's on his way back anyway" Arthur thought sarcastically. "A pity that the old fool didn't gulp down Antek's sleeping potion like he gulps down any other liquid. He might have died. Now there's a pleasurable thought to brighten up one's day."

Antek stirred, moaning faintly, and Pendragon halted his horse to have a closer look at his friend. "Antek? Do you hear me?" but he didn't get a reply.

Meanwhile a puffing Badagere had reached the Prince. "My coat" the pathetic excuse for a knight squeaked. "And my boots. You insolent bastard." He slapped Arthur's face and the heavy leather glove increased the blow's impact sufficiently to almost dismount the young man. Arthur tasted blood on his tongue while he tried not to fall from his horse with Antek lying unconscious in his arms.

"Sir Badagere, may I draw your attention to the fact that your young Lord is lying directly in front of you, obviously wounded." Lucius' voice was as soft and as deferential as a razor knife. As always no trace of his broad accent was to be heard when he spoke to someone he didn't like. "I suggest you do something about that, possibly before you hurt His Lordship even further while you are thrashing a servant who is Lord Antek's personal property."

"Eh, yes, I think…." But that was as far as it went before Badagere scratched his head in puzzlement. Lucius lost the last remainder of his patience. "Arthur, take His Lordship to the infirmary, at once."

Pendragon turned his horse and rode towards the main yard and Merco's door, escorted by Lucius. Badagere had no other choice but to follow suit.

Behind the last rider the castle gates were shut with a loud thud. For a moment Arthur needed all his strength to suppress any outer sign of his feelings. A more final symbol for him being caged once more was hardly imaginable.

Mercator shot out of the entrance. "_Arthur_? What are you doing here? Antek said you would……" In the very last moment the healer gulped down a remark which could have got Arthur and him into very hot water.

Exasperated, Lucius ushered the young man inside. "Take His Lordship to the examination table, _now_! Merco, are ya daft? There's a patient for ya to torment." Only now the physician realized that Antek seemed to be in need of his help and he bustled back in for his medicines and instruments.

Arthur carefully laid his friend down on Merco's table and felt an arm circle his neck, dragging him backwards. He could smell Badagere's sweat when he was pressed to the man's chest. "You come with me, you cheeky devil. I'll teach you to steal my clothes and horse."

Disgusted and enraged, Pendragon let go of any prudence or restraint. All of the last months' frustration and anger forged ahead. Avid for revenge, however ill-placed, he took the offensive arm, pushed it away from his throat, dodged out of the man's grip and twisted the arm on his opponent's back, all in one swift movement. Badagere screamed when his shoulder was almost torn out of joint. Arthur let go of him only to push him around. Two quick, hard punches, one into the stomach and one on the solar plexus sent Badagere to the floor, whimpering.

Uncharacteristically, Arthur didn't let go once his opponent was down. He pushed forward and lunged out to kick Badagere into the back, to hit the kidneys. Two strong arms stopped him and Lucius twisted the young man's wrists behind his back. "Stop it, Pendragon. That's _enough_!" Reflexively the Prince struggled against the soldier's hold before he gave up. He leaned back into Lucius' arms, panting heavily with emotions over boiling. "D'ya have any idea what this mess will cost ya?" Lucius hissed into his ear. "Are ya a moron or what? What were ya doing outside ya' pen anyway?"

Before Arthur could answer, Merco chimed in. "Let him go, Lucius. I need him over here to help me with His Lordship." Reluctantly Lucius released the Prince and helped Sir Badagere climb back to his feet.

Arthur ignored his opponent and went to Antek's bedside. He grinned when he saw that his friend had come to. "Hey, there you are again" he said. "I knew I hadn't killed you."

Antek looked back reproachfully and opened his mouth for a reply when his eyes widened in sudden fear. "Arthur, take care…"

Pendragon flinched when he felt Badagere's sword press hard between his shoulder blades. A split second later a knife was at his throat. "And if it's the last thing I'll do on this earth, I will make you pay for that." Half mad with rage, the knight didn't even feel his injuries any more.

He forced Arthur back, away from Antek and Lucius towards the room's back exit while the others watched helplessly.

"Sir Badagere. That much activity at this early hour? I am astonished. Please, do not overexert yourself." Everyone in the room froze at the sound of Count Llanfair's silky voice.

"My Lord" Badagere stammered. "This insolent scum has insulted me. He attacked me. I am entitled…." The knife pressed even harder against Arthur's skin and drew blood. Llanfair's jaws tightened at the sight.

"But yes of course" he said. "I completely agree. As you said, you are entitled. But I have my entitlements, too. Use your knife against our young royal friend here and it _will_ be the last thing you ever did on this earth, I assure you. The choice is yours."

Arthur felt the hand that held the knife shake. He winced when the point of the sword cut into the skin of his back but then the pressure was gone. Badagere had backed down.

Llanfair scrutinized Badagere and tut-tutted derisively at the man's desolate state. Then he grabbed Arthur by the chin and turned his face into the light. "I understand this swelling is the handiwork of our brave knight here?"

"Yes, My Lord" Lucius answered when Arthur kept silent.

Llanfair let go of Pendragon's face and shook his head in mocked sorrow. "I was about to say that the two of you were even anyway, but I now see that I was wrong. Sir Badagere, next time you wrestle with an unarmed opponent who has had no exercise for more than six months and who has been locked up, tortured and starved, you _must_ wear your chainmail. Really, I insist. After all, what should we do without you?"

Badagere was utterly crestfallen. His lips trembled. He was at a complete loss of what to say. Silently fighting for some shabby remainder of composure he stood in the doorway like a kicked dog.

"Lucius, escort Pendragon to my rooms. I have to talk to him."

"My Lord." Out of habit the soldier took a piece of leather rope from his belt to bind the captive's hands.

"This won't be necessary" Llanfair said. "You see, our little bird here has flown back into his cage willingly because he burns to have a little chat with me on a very specific subject of mutual – and may I say personal? – interest. Isn't that so, Arthur?"

"Yes."

The cat-like grey-green gaze met a pair of anxious blue eyes and stared them down. So easy. Llanfair smiled and waved his hand. "Off you go. I'll join you as soon as possible. Now where is my dear child? Antek, my poor boy…."

Arthur passed Badagere who still stood in the doorway, utterly forgotten. "I am sorry" Arthur said quietly. "I overdid this." Something happened in the man's face but before he could say anything Lucius pushed Arthur out. For the first time since he had first met the pretentious knight Pendragon pondered the possibility that there might be a reason for Badagere drowning himself in wine and spirits.

On their arrival in Llanfair's rooms Lucius hit Arthur between the shoulder blades, hard. "What did ya think ya were doin', huh? So Antek brought ya out! An' you knock him down and come back? Are ya daft? Answer me."

"And you figured this out all by yourself? Wow. I'm impressed." Arthur's weak smile faded. "Unfortunately I can't tell you anything right now. Please believe me that I had my reasons."

"Oh, ya had, hadn't ya. Well then, where's the problem? Tell me, should I strangle ya here an' now for ya' stupidity or should I wait a wee bit?"

"Look, I don't owe you an explanation for what I do."

"Oh, isn't His Royal Highness becoming high and mighty again." Lucius said it with much gusto in the irony. "If only you were in a position to speak like that to the old wolf himself, we would all rest easier at night."

"Antek once told me that his father never visited him when he was ill. Why did he come to the infirmary now?" Arthur tried to change the subject; however the topic was ill chosen.

"Now I see that Camelot is lucky she got rid of ya." Lucius rolled his eyes towards the ceiling. "As daft as y' are. The ol' beast didn't come for his whelp, he came for _you._ Couldn't wait to dig his claws into ya once more. It's his favourite pastime, to tear a Pendragon apart. He never cared much for Antek, any road."

"Poor Antek" Arthur murmured.

"Poor Uther, if ya ask me!" Lucius said.

Arthur darted around. "What do you know about him? Tell me, at once!"

"Sire, please spare your humble servant's life" Lucius said in mocked intimidation. "I am deeply ashamed that I must inform Your Grace that I know nothing whatsoever about His Majesty except that he must be desperate with grieve about you by now. And you run back here. Had you no thought for the man?"

Arthur had no chance to reply to that as the door opened this very moment and Llanfair stepped in. He waved his hand once more towards Lucius. "Out!"

With a last warning glance at the Prince the old soldier left.

The Count faced his prisoner. "Good news, Antek is going to be fine. I think it would be appropriate to thank you for the rescue of my son and heir after he had been kicked by a spooked horse….." He cocked his brow questioningly but Arthur didn't react. "…but somehow I don't think you came back for a reward and a hug. What is it you want to discuss?"

"I have only one question."

"Go ahead"

"Have you already fixed a date or are you still pondering when you are going to kill my father?"

Llanfair surveyed his counterpart. So the little dragon was finally circling the trap. "I take it Antek has told you everything?"

Arthur nodded. "He has."

"So my son has told you one thing and you have heard another" Llanfair thought. "Good." He smiled most benevolently at the young man in front of him.

"Well, yes, poor old Uther, I'm sure he meant well when he left Camelot in the dead of night. Doubtlessly he thought he could do _you _some good. But to run off like that…… You know, I really _do_ believe he regrets it already. Of course that's only my impression."

"How did you lure him out of Camelot?" Arthur felt sick at the thought of the circumstances under which the Count miight have won this 'impression'.

Llanfair handed a document to him and Arthur recognized his father's handwriting immediately. Silently he studied the letter that contained Uther's second, desperate plea to spare his son and take his own life instead. Pendragon cursed the tears that blinded him when he had reached the all too familiar signature but he wasn't able to fight them down.

"What do you want, you monster? Say it!"

"Why should I want anything?" Llanfair asked "I've got you, I've got the territories, the money, him on his knees and all of Camelot in reach – time for old Uther to exit the stage; wouldn't you agree? Is there anything left I could do to him?" Behind his nonchalant façade Llanfair was as tensed as a wired rope. Come on, little dragon, just one step.

"You have me at your sword but that's not what you originally wanted, is it?" Arthur tried to stay calm, in control of what he thought and said. "You said you wanted _me_, you wanted to tell my father that you had made me beg for permission to crawl to you. Does this still stand?"

"I hope you do not think that your little vacation in my son's rooms qualifys for such an agreement?"

"Listen, just tell me what you would accept as prove of my complete submission and I'll deliver it. You will not kill my father then. After all, how much humiliation and pain a dead man can feel?"

"So you are willing to do anything I ask of you? You would swear obedience to me for the rest of your life if I were to guarantee that it won't be me or mine who kill your father? You would swear your life away for the man?"

"Yes, I told you."

Llanfair heaved a sigh of relief. This was it, then. He had finally got there. "You realize it would be without any exceptions" he said while he circled his young captive. "One refused order, one act of resistance, one attempt to escape and the deal would be off. You'd have to swear to me that you have no allegiance to Camelot or your father, not now, not ever. It would be treason to make such an oath to a sworn enemy of Camelot, do you know that?"

"Yes, I do."

Arthur thought he was going to lose his nerves any moment now. '"It doesn't matter what he says" he told himself. "The man's completely mad, whatever I swear to him, it won't be valid. I'm forced into this. Once my father is safe, I'll run like hell."

"I know what you are thinking" Llanfair said. "You think how nice it would be to break my neck with your bare hands. But then you don't know anything, do you. I am the only one in Blackrock who knows where your father might be found. And what the others will do to him once I am no longer in this world….. who knows?"

Arthur couldn't stand this anymore. "Please, tell me what you want and I'll do it. Let's get it over with. My father's life and safe return to Camelot against my life coming to your hands. It can't be _that_ complicated to seal the bargain."

"Oh it isn't. Frankly I already thought about the fitting ceremonial framework for such a momentous occasion. Nothing grand, of course. Only you and me and one neutral witness. Let's have it today, shall we?"

Arthur nodded curtly, being at his wit's end how to keep his self-control. He felt his knees buckle with relief when Llanfair turned to the door.

"By the way" the Count turned back once more. "You will stay here until I come back. You breathe one word of this to a living soul and I swear I'll do my utmost to let you see your father suffer before I kill you both, understood?" A last gaze at Arthur's face made Llanfair so sure of his prisoner's cooperation that he didn't even lock the door behind him.

Alone at last Arthur just dropped down to the carpet. Now the only thing he could do was to wait.

It took the Count three hours before he came back for the Prince. Llanfair took him to an unfamiliar stair that led down to a room which looked neglected and unused, except for the shiny table in its centre and the wooden case on it. A few torches were scattered over the walls to light up the scene. Arthur became apprehensive at the sight of two wooden poles which were erected at both sides of a small step in front of the table. Badagere stood in the left corner of the room's back wall, face unreadable.

"Get to your knees. There, on this step." Llanfair seemed to be in some nervous haste. Arthur hesitated, taken aback by the peculiar setting. Like when he had first spoken with Antek he felt Merlin's presence all of a sudden. "Arthur, run. Don't do this. Run, Arthur, run." He even thought he could see the young warlock standing in front of the table, staring at him imploringly, almost in tears.

"Forgive me, my friend" Pendragon thought absurdly, as if Merlin was really there to hear his thoughts "but this has to be." He went to the step and knelt down, as ordered.

Merlin's voice seemed to become even louder. "Don't do this. It's a lie, it's all a lie."

As soon as Llanfair took his place in front of the table, Merlin's presence and voice vanished and Arthur felt bereaved somehow, terribly alone.

The Count took his face and forced him to look up. "Do you declare that you are here on your own free will, to strike a bargain with me? A life for a life, as it is the sacred rule?"

"Yes. Yes I do."

Arthur jerked when he felt Llanfair pull up his left arm towards the pole. Instinctively he tried to free his wrist and the Count halted immediately. "Maybe I should tell you that this ceremony needs your cooperation up to a certain point. If you wish, we can stop. It's for you to decide how much your father is worth to you."

Swallowing hard, Arthur let the man tie both his wrists to the poles, until his arms were spread like bird wings.

"Are you willing to hand over your life to me, without reluctance?" Llanfair chanted it more than he said it. He seemed disconnected from reality. The rapture on his face looked unnatural, other worldly.

"Yes, I am". Arthur heard Badagere stir restlessly in his corner.

Like a prayer Pendragon kept repeating to himself "the man's mad. Completely freaked out. It doesn't matter what I say."

"Then you will repeat the oath I am going to read out to you."

Word for word, Arthur repeated what was read out to him without knowing what he said; his fervent hope that this madness would soon be over dominating his mind exclusively. He was pulled out of his dream-like state when Llanfair took a sharp knife out of the wooden case and used it to cut into the young man's upper arm. Then he pressed his mouth to the small wound and sucked.

In utter horror, Arthur pulled violently at his bonds. "No. Don't…" but Llanfair's hand on his mouth smothered his protests.

When he had finished the Count cut a vein in his own wrist and held it out to his captive. "Drink! Thrice. Do as I have done." Still forcibly silenced by the old man's hand Arthur shook his head. Once more he tried to free his arms, but it was no use. Llanfair grew impatient. "Time for objections is over, I'm afraid. Do you want your father to be spared or not?"

The Count found his satisfied smile again when he felt his victim's resistance cease. He let go of Arthur's face and held out his injured wrist to him again. "I said, drink!"

Arthur bent his head. With his eyes shut tightly he pressed his lips to Llanfair's arm and sucked. Once the blood was in his mouth, his stomach twisted violently. Disgusted beyond endurance he retched up but before he could spit it all out, Llanfair's hand was pressed on his mouth again. "Swallow it. Just one gulp and it will be done."

With all his strength Arthur tried to shake off the lunatic's hand but the Count's free hand gripped the back of the captive's head to strengthen his hold.

"My Lord, you are suffocating him." Badagere said alarmed. "If you want him alive, you must let him breath."

"Keep out of this, you fool."

Suddenly Llanfair pulled himself upright and stepped back. "There, you see? It wasn't that bad after all, was it? Not much to ask for your father's life."

Arthur struggled for air, gagging and spitting for all he was worth, but the mixture of blood and bile he had finally swallowed was safely down. He flinched fiercely when he felt the madman tousle his hair.

"Now you are mine, for ever" Llanfair said fondly. "In body and in soul."

With an appalled expression Badagere watched his Lord caress Pendragon's cheek. "Shhhh. It's all for the best now. No need for fear. It's all over."

"May I see my father, please, I beg of you, I must speak to him. "Arthur no longer cared for appearances.

"We shall see, little dragon. All in good time, all in good time." The Count fondled the young man's hair a moment longer before he turned away.

Llanfair threw the knife to Badagere before he left. "Cut him off. If you want some pleasure with him, go ahead, but I remind you that I want him alive and in one piece."

The knight took the knife and weighed it in his hand for a moment. Finally he cut the ropes and pulled Arthur to his feet. Still panting and shaking with disgust the young man wiped his face and mouth violently at his sleeve, then he retched again, but dry. Way beyond caring of what Badagere would do he didn't look up until he felt something being pressed roughly into his hand.

Badagere pointed at the small bottle of Brandy. "It'll help to keep it down. I have no desire to watch a renewal of this ghastly business because you vomited. And believe me; the dirty pig would know if you did." He pushed Arthur to the side brusquely and left him alone.

Still a week's ride away from Blackrock, Merlin bolted up from the ground, screaming. "Arthur, no..!"

Arenboarth caught him before he could fall back to the ground. "I know, Merlin. I felt it too. We all felt what Llanfair has done."

"What is it? Did he reach my son? What happened?" As always when the magicians seemed to live in a world of their own and talked opaque and cloudy rubbish, Uther was the incorporation of impatience.

Arenboarth turned towards the King, face white as chalk. "Llanfair has somehow tricked your son into doing something very foolish. Do you remember anything I once told you about the ritual that's called Di'inshara?"


	16. Leap of faith

16 Leap of faith

"Would you mind if I join you?" Merlin looked up, angry that someone should disturb his musings but then he jumped to his feet. As always intimidated by Uther's presence, feeling awkward and apprehensive, the young warlock took on a defensive composure without even knowing it. "Your Majesty?"

Uther couldn't fail to hear the unspoken "what do _you_ want? Piss off!" in that. He'd taken much of this from the Druids since his arrival at their camp. It had been a new and rather unpleasant experience that, after the women in Camelot usually held up their children to see him when he rode by, the Druid women used to usher their children inside as soon as they spotted him in a distance less than 100 metres. Uther had thought that his popularity in Camelot had come to an all-time low but once he had reached Arenboarth's clan he had learned how it felt if it had fallen below floor. For Gaius and Leon he seemed to be a necessary evil. Only this girl, this Guinivere – he had only just learned to remember her name – tried to be friendly and considerate. It had taken Pendragon some time to gather that she did it for Arthur's sake, as much as everything else she had done. It hadn't been a small thing to go to Blackrock Castle together with Marius to gather information, posing as a couple of wine merchants.

Willy-nilly the King had learned to leave his otherwise easily pricked pride on the shelf. At least on some occasions. If they were important enough. This occasion definitely qualified.

Uther had shot his bolt to turn his son away from this young magician but the bolt had hit Arthur's heart, figuratively as well as literally. If his son should be rescued – _when _he _would_ be rescued – it would be with this warlock's help. Uther didn't delude himself. Arthur hadn't let go of this friendship before and he certainly wouldn't be willing to do so now. Some sort of agreement with the magician was necessary to regain Arthur's trust and affection.

Unceremoniously the King dropped to the grassy ground, leaving Merlin no other option but to follow suit. It surprised Pendragon over and over again that Merlin, although he definitely disliked him, couldn't bring himself to being actually _rude_. He just avoided the King as much as possible. Maybe a left-over from his days in the disguise of a servant.

"So, it will be tomorrow or never" Uther said. "I doubt the old wolf will ever allow him outside the castle again. He can't afford to."

Merlin avoided the King's gaze. His nervous fingers played uselessly with the grass. "As long as Arthur thinks that you are Llanfair's prisoner they can give him all the freedom they want, he won't run. Besides, there is the bondage the Di'inshara creates.

"Merlin, forget about this superstitious nonsense. Even back on the Blessed Isle Arenboarth was the only one who believed such a ritual to be effective. It's no magic, its hocus-pocus. Llanfair has no magic and whatever Arenboarth stammers the old monster could borrow magic power from some out-worldly demons as much as you could borrow Arthur's skill with a sword."

"Last time he took me for his sparring-partner he said I had definitely improved" Merlin whispered forlornly. When he looked up the King was taken aback by the sadness in the young man's face. "You must hate me" Merlin said. "If it hadn't been for me and my stupidity Arthur and you would never have quarrelled like that. He would have come back to you on his own accord later and you would have forgiven him, wouldn't you?"

It took Uther a moment to sort out what Merlin was talking about but then his heart missed a beat. Merlin's eyes looked directly into his. Wide, dark blue and full of a trust Uther knew to be as undeserved as it was incomprehensible that it should be _there_, after what Pendragon had done to the young warlock _and _to his own son.

"My goodness, lad, I thought…… Was _that_ why you have been avoiding me?"

Merlin nodded. "But I'll make it up to you both tomorrow, you'll see. You must believe me then. You must believe that I never was your enemy. How could I be? You mean the world to my best friend. I'd never let any harm come to Camelot or you, however much I'd…." and the warlock bit his lip.

"However much you'd like to see me in my grave sometimes. Just say it. It's not as if I didn't give you and the Druids sufficient reason to feel that way." Uther shuddered slightly.

"Are you cold?" Merlin asked.

Uther nodded, feeling a lot more comfortable with this explanation than with the fact that his long lost conscience had come back to haunt him. "Maybe I should have brought my coat."

"Wait!"

The young warlock's eyes flashed golden and the little pile of wood between them was suddenly ablaze. The fire's cosy warmth was very comfortable but Uther felt his hair stand on end. "Must you do that?"

"That's what I am" Merlin replied. "It's _who_ I am. Tomorrow you will need me just because I can do things like that. And others. You tried to kill me and the Druids for exactly the same powers you're in desperate need of now. Once Arthur is back, safe, what are you going to do?"

"This conversation is as weird as the person I am having it with" the King thought.

"Now let me get that straight" he said. "You say you'll never harm my realm or me albeit I gave you many reasons to take revenge. I don't deny that. A moment ago you trusted me that I'd never had punished my son if he had come back to me willingly. Unfortunately I am not so sure about that. And now you are distrusting me and ask me what I am going to do to you, your friends or the Druids once we've got my son back? That's crazy."

"No, it's not" Merlin said. "Arthur is your child. I am not. Nor are my friends. And even if you were to accept us all back in Camelot you would have to accept _me_ as I am. And I _am_ a sorcerer. It would mean much more than to lift this silly law of yours, the ban on magic. You would have to take a leap of faith, a huge one. I know, right now you think you can accept and endure anything but that's because your son is in mortal danger. Can you live with that decision afterwards?"

Uther, who still gazed into Merlin's eyes, disbelieving that this much innocence could exist in a person, jerked slightly when he felt the young man's hand furtively crawl into his.

With an effort the King reminded himself that this warm, gentle, friendly paw had once moved its little finger to call a thunderstorm which had killed Nimue, the most powerful sorceress he had known in his life. Arenboarth had told him much more about the boy the Lord Druid considered to be his heir. These vulnerable eyes had once flashed a golden light and Cornelius Sigan had been defeated, a sorcerer who had conquered death itself. Uther also remembered another occasion. Merlin had put a spoke in Morgause's wheel by actually lying to Arthur, telling him that his mother's death had not been Uther's fault. The lie had prevented Arthur from killing his own father. A part of Uther cringed at the thought of his only child being exposed to this power, ever again. Another part scoffed at this. "If you trust him now to save your child you can't believe he is going to hurt Arthur later on."

A leap of faith, indeed.

Merlin flinched when he felt his hand caught in an iron grip all of a sudden. "It's a deal, Merlin, Emrys or whatever your real name is. As long as you are loyal to my son you will have my trust and I dare say you earned it. But if you ever turn against my child I will find you. And for myself I have never been much afraid of magic."

"Deal" Merlin said. Uther watched this special goofy smile appear on the warlock's face and had a first glimpse of how and why this young man had become a friend of the Prince of Camelot.


	17. False hopes

17 False hopes

A day later the said Prince was having an uncomfortable conversation himself.

"Arthur, you're a dumb-ass sometimes. Why didn't you just tell me you thought Uther to be my father's prisoner _before_ we rode out?" Antek was now definitely angry. "And by the way, I still don't believe that it is true. My father deliberately gave you a false impression. I know for a fact that the King is not in Blackrock. Think of it, Arthur. You know how much the Count hates Uther. Do you really believe he would stay in Blackrock if your father were held prisoner somewhere else? Wouldn't he want to see him face to face at least once or twice, if only to torment him? But my father hasn't left Blackrock since the day you came."

"And if I' had heeded your advice and had run and Llanfair were to kill my father after all, do you think I could live with that?"

Antek threw his hands up in frustration and his horse jerked. He calmed it down and made a last attempt. "What you want is prove and prove you cannot have. The only thing I know for sure is that you'll never leave Blackrock again once we are back from this so called hunting trip my father imposed on me. Now I know the reason. For eight days he had you virtually immured in his rooms this time, under constant surveillance. He knew exactly how you would feel with a few days of freedom out in the forest, unrestrained, unguarded but knowing all the time that you'd have to go back to captivity."

Pendragon's originally forced smile was now genuine. Antek had this effect on him, just like Merlin. "Nevertheless, it was great. I had forgotten how it feels. Even with you constantly rambling on, it was worth it." He turned around to look at the six Llanfair knights who rode in some distance behind them. "Although this stuff about being unguarded is a bit optimistic. And you might care to speak a bit quieter when you talk treason."

"I swear, Arthur, sometimes you…." Antek interrupted himself and frowned. "Did you see something too, over there?" he asked.

Arthur wanted to deny when suddenly a bunch of ragged men broke free from the woods and attacked the escort with swords drawn. The two young men were cut off from the knights and three men ran towards them, also armed. "Bandits" Antek shouted, closing his helmet. "Take care". Then he was busy fighting back two of the attackers while the third man turned on Pendragon. The Prince jumped off his horse and pulled back, unsure of what to do.

"Arthur, it's me." Disbelieving he stared at the heavily painted face and the ragged clothes of the woman who was attacking him. "Gwen?"

Antek had seen his unarmed friend pull back. With a sharp kick the young Count sent one of his attackers to the ground. The man fell towards his comrade who was unbalanced for a second, long enough for Antek to run his sword through the man's throat. The knight now turned to look for Arthur who seemed to be frozen in place, just staring at his opponent. Antek ran towards him when a flash of light at the forest's edge caught his eye. Perhaps twenty metres away from where he stood, reflecting the sunlight, unmistakable and impossible to miss in the bright red flag, the golden Dragon of Camelot fluttered in the wind from a lance stuck into the ground.

Antek reached his friend just as Pendragon approached his 'attacker'. "Arthur, these aren't bandits, they are your father's men. Run, just run!" He gestured with his swords towards the flag. As Arthur's eyes were still focused exclusively on his opponent, Antek wielded his sword towards him to gain his attention. He saw the Prince nod and smile briefly while he took his opponent's hand who, as Antek realized only now, was female. They both ran towards Arthur's horse, obviously intending to flee to the Camelot men. Escort forgotten, Antek ran behind them to reach his own horse. He knew perfectly well he'd better not return to Blackrock without his father's prisoner. Even taking his chances with Uther would be much better for his health.

He was only three steps behind Arthur when he heard him scream. The Prince toppled over and gripped his head. On Antek's arrival he was already unconscious. The young woman was shaking him, shouting his name but in vain. In this moment Antek heard hoofs beat on the road before him. Looking up he spotted Llanfair's blue banner with the silver wolf, approaching rapidly. "Reinforcements from Blackrock. How the devil did my father know?"

He bent over the young woman and pulled her to her feet. "Whoever you are, get lost. The last thing Arthur needs now is another hostage used against him." She lashed out at him with astonishing strength and he wrestled with her for a moment before he could push her back and she fell to the ground. "Get lost, I said…" In this second he felt something incredibly hot hitting his chest. Astonished he saw the terrifying burn mark on his body. Only now the pain set in and he felt he couldn't breathe any more. The shocked female face before him blurred. Darkness surrounded him and he fell down, knowing nothing any more, directly at Arthur's side.

Merlin, hidden in the brushwood behind the Camelot lance, had seen Arthur and Gwen running off together, with the Llanfair knight who had threatened the Prince with his sword earlier in close pursuit. The warlock paled with rage when he saw Pendragon fall, obviously wounded. Merlin's heart fluttered as he realized that Arthur didn't get up. He saw Gwen kneel at his side, then he watched the accursed Llanfair knight attack the young woman. The moment his field of fire was free he concentrated all his rage and fear in one single impulse of power and let go. With some satisfaction he saw Gwen's attacker go down.

The warlock registered the hoofs beat only afterwards The Llanfair reinforcements circled both young men and he lost sight of Arthur altogether. He could have blown off the whole bunch to oblivion with a single strike but without seeing Arthur he couldn't be sure he would spare him. Using the brushwood as cover he ran towards the group to find a better sight until he heard Arthur scream in his head. "Stay back, don't come nearer, please, don't." The paralysing pain his friend felt exploded in Merlin's head as well, leaving him as weak and powerless as a new born kitten for precious minutes.

Helplessly he lay behind some bushes and watched the old Count himself lift Arthur to his horse. The Prince struggled only briefly before he slumped back into Llanfair's hold. The Count rode away, towards his stronghold and the bulk of the other knights followed him.

From his place in the brushwood Uther saw Llanfair's men taking control of the battle scene and heard someone howl like a wounded wolf with anger and frustration. Merlin. With a fleeting thought the King mused how much he would enjoy to do just the same. Instead he kept silent while he cursed himself for every single mistake he had made in this whole affair. The latest had been to heed Arenboarth's advice for him and Merlin to stay away from the immediate fighting. When Leon came to drag him away he followed his knight as if he were blind.

Gwen panted heavily while she looked at the fat man in chainmail who towered over her. In some distance she could make out Marius' dead body, killed by this younger Llanfair knight. Had it been Antek? The remainder of Leon's fighters had either withdrawn or lay dead on the ground, killed by the escort.

Badagere scrutinized her thoroughly. Young. Handsome. With fierce eyes. Some fear but mostly pain and rage. A Pendragon crest on her sword, although it wasn't the royal one. One of his girls then. At his age and with his looks he must have a whole bunch of them.

Two of Badagere's men dismounted and went towards her. "Leave her alone."

"But Sir Badagere, surely His Lordship would like to…"

"I said, leave her _alone_!"

Badagere's men hadn't heard that tone of voice in a very long time and it intimidated them thoroughly. He threw her sword back to her. "Run off, little chicken. There's nothing left for you to do for your Prince." He turned his horse and left her standing.

Four hours later, in the makeshift camp the Druids had erected in the deep forest where they could easily shelter it with their magic from all unwanted attention Gaius shook his head. Arenboarth's and Uther's shouting match was audible for everyone. While the physician and the Druid healers were tending to the wounded fighters it went on and on, running in circles without any use but as an outlet for the strain that both men felt. Gaius was startled when Merlin suddenly rose and left his side to walk resolutely towards Arenboarth's tent. "Let them be Merlin" his uncle shouted but to no avail.

The second Merlin flapped open the tent's entrance Uther banged his fist on the table. "I don't accept it" the King shouted at the top of his lungs. "I will never accept that my boy is lost, there must be a way to break the hold Llanfair has over him."

Merlin hadn't known the solemn Lord Druid could be that exasperated. "Uther, I've told you once, I've told you a thousand times, once the Di'inshara is completed there is no other way to break it but to kill the slaver with equally dark magic and I will not do that, not even for your son. Besides, I would have to be very close to Llanfair _and_ Arthur while I performed it and there is no way to enter this accursed castle against Llanfair's will."

"Then we must enter it with his consent" Merlin said calmly. "How about wrenching an official invitation from the man?"

Both men stared at him as if he were mad. "Gwen thinks the young man I hit was Llanfair's son. I am sure the wound I inflicted is lethal, actually I can_ feel_ his life trickle away bit by bit. He's got 24 hours before he dies. There is a chance to heal him if somebody else's life is taken instead. And no, I don't need the Water of Life for that" Merlin apprehended Arenboarth's interference. "There are.... other possibilities."

"Emrys I forbid you ever to mention that again." The Lord Druid was outraged. "This is dark magic of the worst kind. If you were ever to use magic like that I would never accept you back to my people, let alone as my apprentice."

"Then don't" Merlin said coldly "I am not a Druid anyway."

"But you could lose your soul in the bargain" Arenboarth pleaded. "At best you would be ….tarnished, contaminated. What if you were going to lose your power to control yourself? Would you like to end up like Llanfair himself?"

"The Count _has_ no magic, you said so yourself. He never knew what he was toying with. I know full well what I'm doing."

The Druid leader straightened his shoulders. "Well, I won't allow it and that's that. See whether you can as much as leave this tent against my will, let alone proceed with this abominable scheme of yours."

For the first time in this conversation Merlin fully faced the elder magician. "Try me!" he said, voice still treacherously calm and quiet. "I won't vouch for the consequences." Tension built up between the two warlocks and the aggressive energy which was about to break free was almost palpable, even for Uther.

"Merlin, you do not _have_ to do this." the King said, despite himself. "Anyway, what would you achieve by saving Antek's life?"

If he wasn't successful in changing the young magician's mind he did at least succeed in breaking the two sorcerers' concentration. "Let me be the judge of that" Merlin said. "As I said I know what I am doing. But I can't do it alone. I understand that Your Majesty has offered your own life in exchange for Arthur. Does this offer still stand?"

Uther paled, but nodded. "That goes without saying."

"Good" Merlin replied. "The two of us – and nobody else! – will ride back to Blackrock. I will offer to save Antek, taking Uther's life instead. If that won't bring us into the castle, nothing will."

"Emry's under no circumstances Llanfair must get hold of father _and_ son." Arenboarth shouted it with all his power and his rage virtually made the tent shake. "Don't you see, you stupid know-nothing that that is what he has been playing for all the time? He doesn't care for Antek enough to let Arthur go and once he has you in his stronghold he can do with you whatever he wants. He has the Prince as a hostage against you! You're playing directly into his hand!"

"You're forgetting his great plan" Merlin replied, still forcibly calm, albeit this calm showed rifts. "It was _you_ who first told me that it was Uther's life, his bloodline _and_ his Crown Llanfair has been gambling for. While the old Count can kill both Pendragons with his own hands, he cannot hope to take over Camelot's throne himself. He may not love his child but he _needs_ him, desperately. Without an heir to take the Crown his revenge would be incomplete."

"And you are going there now, to ensure that his revenge will _be_ complete?"

"My plans are no concern of yours. I will not risk that the lunatic somehow sniffs out what I am about to do." Merlin turned to Uther. "Time's running out Your Grace. We should leave now."

The King remembered the sad, innocent young man he had spoken to the night before. The young man with the vulnerable eyes. He seemed to be completely gone. The magician who stood before him was self-assured, almost basking in his power. "How many faces do you have, my mysterious friend?" he wondered briefly. "And who of us will survive to see them all?"

He took his sword scabbard from his belt and threw it to the Lord Druid together with his knife. "Here! I will not see them in the hands of a Llanfair. Keep them for my son." With a pat on Merlin's shoulder he said "Let's go!"

A last time Arenboarth blocked Merlin's way. "If you go now, you need not come back to me or mine, ever!"

"Pendragon business! That's what you called it, Arenboarth, wasn't it? An affair that concerned a King, a Prince and all who had worn their crest. Well, that includes me, in case you've forgotten. I am like Gwen, like Leon, like poor Marius who is laying in a sheet outside. I am a Pendragon. We all are. And now go out of my way."

The Lord Druid watched them ride off. He saw Gaius' crestfallen face and the renewed fear in it. Fear for Merlin and maybe, just maybe, fear for the rash and reckless King he had served as a loyal friend for so many years, until Uther's obsession and arrogance had torn the bond between them. Gwen came running, together with Leon who held Mirella's hand. They all stared uncomprehendingly at Arenboarth, waiting for an answer he didn't have. "Oh, to hell with it" he muttered.

It needed only a few words to his second-in-command and the younger Druids made ready to throw-off. The game they were searching for wasn't hard to find. After all, there weren't that many castles in this area.


	18. Inside the wolf's den

**18 Inside the wolf's den**

Mercator covered Antek's mutilated body once more with the blanket and rose. "As I already said, there is no doubt whatsoever, My Lord. This wound has been inflicted by magic and by a very powerful magic at that. I fear..." but, be it for fear for his life or for the intense grief he felt at Antek's imminent death, his voice failed the old man.

"You fear what?" Llanfair said. "Speak up man, before I lose my patience."

The physician sighed. There was nothing for it then. "I fear your son is going to die within the next day. My powers are at an end here."

"So there might be another power that could save my son's life? If I were to accept the offer Uther and his wizard made, for example?" As if by pure coincidence the Count's hand brushed against Arthur's face while he said that and Merco saw the young man shudder in disgust. Not for the first time the healer marvelled at Llanfair's power to keep his young prisoner in check without any obvious restraints. The old man wished he had had an opportunity to speak to Pendragon after he and Antek had been brought in by the Llanfair knights but the Count had kept his eyes glued on his captive ever since.

"For all it is worth, My Lord, from my training on the Blessed Isle I remember the old saying that only the magician who invoked a death spell can save his victim if he is willing to sacrifice another life in the process. Therefore, yes, I think to accept Uther's offer would be the only way to save Antek's life."

"Of course this would mean to let our young Prince here go free and to this awful Druid magicians at that. They could do all kind of things with these unearthly powers they have."

Arthur's jaws tensed but the lunatic smiled at him like a friendly uncle. "I am not sure I am yet ready to part with him. You know, Merco I've become very fond of our young friend. We have formed a strong bond between us and I would hate to see it broken."

"My Lord, as I said before, your _son_ is dying and the exchange Uther offered is his only chance." Even after all he had seen from Llanfair Mercator still couldn't believe him to be _that_ impervious when it came to his child's survival. "You have to let your prisoner go; otherwise the magician will never willingly enter the bargain. And you can't _force_ a sorcerer of his powers into anything." Arthur looked up at him and the healer swallowed hard. Although the young man didn't – or couldn't? – speak, his face was eloquent enough. There wasn't the slightest doubt that he didn't want this exchange to take place. With an effort the healer braved the silent pleading to talk Llanfair _out_ of this instead _into_ it. "I really see no other chance, Count Llanfair."

"I've always known you to be a man of little imagination. Of course there is another possibility. There always is." He turned to Lucius who so far had been a silent bystander. "Lucius, I want you to bring a last message from me to your real master."

"My Lord, I do not..." the soldier said bewildered and alarmed but that was as far as he came. In one swift and elegant movement which would have done credit to a much younger man Llanfair drew his sword and cut off Lucius' head. It fell to the floor as the corpse went down and rolled directly to Sir Badagere's feet. While everybody else stood stunned in horror, Llanfair re-sheathed his blade. He didn't trouble himself with cleaning it. Then he pressed a letter into Badagere's hand. "Sir Badagere, please be so kind as to secure this letter to the head and see to it that it is delivered to this young sorcerer as soon as he shows himself once more in front of our walls. Use our catapults if necessary." Badagere nodded and left the room as fast as possible, carrying the severed head by the hair.

"My Lord what have you done? Why?" Merco's throat was too tight to allow him more than a hoarse whisper.

"I've punished a spy. Surely you will not deny that I am entitled to do that? Besides, this way Uther will know perfectly well that my ultimatum is as serious as it is simple. Either he and his sorcerer save Antek or Arthur will accompany my son into his grave. Alive!"

With a nod of his head he pointed at Lucius' body. "Clear up this mess! We can't receive the King of Camelot in a pigsty, can we?"

Mercator's thoughts went head over heels. He couldn't let this madness go on. "Maybe the prisoner could help me? I am afraid the corpse is too heavy for me to carry all by myself."

"And I am afraid that your own feeble strength will have to suffice" Llanfair replied. "For some unknown reason I do not really trust you with him any longer."

The physician opened his mouth to protest but Arthur's unnaturally calm voice startled him. "Please do as he says, Merco. It's too late now. For all of us."

The physician stared at the Prince. "He told you in advance, didn't he?" the old healer thought. "The damned monster told you every detail of his plans while I was in the infirmary. That's why he, however he can do it, prevented you from speaking or moving until now! Oh Arthur, forgive me!" Merco bowed his head in silent acknowledgement and then somehow managed to drag Lucius' body out of the room.

As the healer closed the door behind him Llanfair faced Pendragon. "Shall we?" with a polite gesture of his hand he pointed towards the little side room door Arthur had learned to hate so much. "I fear I am too busy right now to keep you out of mischief so you will forgive me if I lock you up until your father arrived. Naturally I could prevent your every attempt to escape or fight back as easily as I did before but somehow I think the experience wasn't an entirely... pleasurable one for you."

"I take it I would waste my breath if I begged you to abstain from this exchange?"

"What, and let my poor innocent son die? Besides, you begged me so desperately for a last meeting with your father and now you decline the offer? After all the trouble I have taken to facilitate it. Really, Arthur, it's too rude of you."

"Dear Gods if I think that you were once supposed to marry my mother and take our realm I feel sick to the bone."

Arthur saw the blow come and did nothing to prevent it. Since the ritual had been completed he had but once tried to attack Llanfair physically. It had achieved nothing but had cost him dearly, in pain as well as in humiliation. With this remark he had at least come deep enough under his tormentor's skin to make him forget his hateful power to force his captive to his knees without so much as touching him. The Prince staggered when the punch hit his face but stayed on his feet. He wiped the blood of his nose and with some satisfaction he read from the other man's face that he was simmering with suppressed rage.

His derisive, superior attitude forgotten, Llanfair gripped the young man by the shoulder and pushed him forward. "You better move before I make you, Pendragon!" It sounded like a low, threatening growl.

"Wouldn't you better take care of your son? Not that you deserved to have a son like Antek. Seems somehow unnatural anyway that he should be _your_ child at all."

However, the trick didn't work twice. The Prince felt the other man take control once more, pushing Arthur's resistance to the side until he walked against his will towards the door. The prisoner regained control over his body only after Llanfair had securely locked him in. Arthur pulled himself upright and leaned his back against the wall. Never before had he felt that defeated and hopeless. There was nothing, absolutely nothing he could do to prevent the final downfall of the Pendragons. The very thing he had done to save his father's life had finalised Llanfair's victory. Arthur tried to visualise the moment he would see Uther again after all these months, most probably for the last time ever. It was a given that Llanfair would force his prisoner to watch Uther Pendragon die. "Merlin, you idiot" he thought. "You must have made your peace with my father. Couldn't you have brought him to safety? I know this wasn't your idea but I'll never forgive you anyway. Never!"

Roughly two hours later the King rose as Merlin approached their hiding place near the forest edge. Uther became apprehensive as he spotted blood in the wizard's face and on his left hand. "What happened? You said you could easily fend off every shot they fired at you."

Instead of an answer Merlin showed him Lucius' head. "They threw this at me as soon as they laid eyes on me" he said shakily. "Together with this" and he handed the letter to Uther. The King broke the Llanfair wolf seal and scanned through the letter. He gasped and reread the message once more before he handed the letter back to Merlin.

The warlock held his breath when he read what Llanfair threatened to do. Meanwhile the King had turned towards the gruesome 'envelope' Llanfair had chosen. "Lucius" he murmured. "So my foolishness killed both of you in the end." With as much composure as he could muster Uther laid down the head.

"A friend of yours?" Merlin asked.

Uther nodded. "In a way, yes" he said softly. "He and his brother Marius were with me when I first came to Camelot. I made them soldiers in the Royal Guard the day after my coronation. Befitting that I am not going to outlive them by long and that they didn't outlive the end of the Pendragon rule, isn't it?"

"This won't be the end of the Pendragon rule if I have my way" the magician replied resolutely. "I take it we've convinced the old wolf that we want Arthur out of the castle before we enter it. Time to go in now."

Uther agreed wholeheartedly. "Let's go!"

On their arrival at Blackrock's outer walls Llanfair greeted them in person from the upper battlements. "I thought you'd given up your hatchling for good, Uther. You definitely took your time to come here."

"How should I know that my son is still alive?" Uther shouted back. "Let me at least see him if you are not going to release him."

The Count laughed briefly. "Maybe your sorcerer friend can oblige."

In the same second Arthur's feelings and thoughts flooded Merlin's mind. He inhaled sharply at the intensity of the emotions but the impression ended as abruptly as it had come. Knowing full well that tears wouldn't be very becoming to his image as the superior master sorcerer he took a moment to calm his face before he turned to Uther. "Arthur is alive, I'm sure of it."

The first of Blackrock's two drawbridges lowered. Uther and Merlin exchanged a last glance before they spurred their horses and entered Llanfair's castle. There was no going back now.

From their places where they merged perfectly with their surroundings Arenboarth and his Druids watched them entering the castle. "What are we going to do, father?" Mirella whispered impatiently. "Do?" Arenboarth replied. "The only thing we can do. Wait until they come out running. If they ever will come out, that is."


	19. A bridge between death and life

**19 A bridge between life and death**

The first thing Uther saw while he was shoved into the room was his son. For all his efforts to brace himself for this confrontation he was stupefied by the sight. Arthur was forced down on his knees in front of a fat man in chainmail. Tightly gagged and with his hands bound firmly behind his back he couldn't do anything but look at his father.

Instinctively Uther went towards his son but stopped in mid-stride when the guard pressed his sword against Arthur's throat. Uther looked at his son's face. The widened, terrified eyes were filled with pain and despair. Uther cursed his powerlessness while the sword point pressed into the smooth skin directly above the carotid artery.

The King turned towards the Count who had preceded them. "Let him go, for heaven's sake" Uther begged. "He's given you everything a human being can give. Why would you take his life for a matter which has always been between the two of us?"

Llanfair snorted. "Oh, I have no intention to see him dead. On the contrary I'm willing to grant him a long and healthy live. On my conditions, naturally." The Count closed his fingers only loosely around his captive's chin but Arthur bolted upright as far as his restraints would let him.

Merlin felt the excruciating pain Llanfair's harmless looking gesture inflicted. A moment later, as if the grip of the Di'in shara was on himself, the wizard felt the pain cease while Llanfair pulled the mental leash all the more tight. Arthur's useless struggle against the humiliating control was Merlin's own. Blinded by anger and fear his magic lashed out at Llanfair but the impact made Arthur gasp with pain once more and the terrified warlock pulled back at once. Panting with shock and apprehension he avoided looking at his friend. Only now the full extent of the abominable bondage the ritual had created was revealed to the magician. Merlin felt he would lose his last shred of control if he let his friend's agony sink in. Never he would have thought that the proud Prince could be that vulnerable, he, who had always been so strong.

"You've made your point. Release him." Merlin screamed it.

"And this is our little sorcerer" the Count mused nonchalantly. "You know, Uther, I used to think I had made a plan for every possibility in our little game but for you, of all people, cooperating with a magician, I have to admit I didn't prepare."

Uther gulped back a fitting reply. He hadn't understood anything of what had happened a moment ago but he could see for himself that both Arthur _and _Merlin were badly shaken. Merlin's chin quivered and Arthur looked as if he were barely conscious. The King's instincts told him to provide a distraction, to give both young men a moment to recover. "Let's stop the useless banter" he said with as much coldness and superiority as he could muster. "We came here to fulfil our side of the bargain and we expect you to fulfil yours. Your son's and my life in exchange for Arthur's life and freedom. Do you agree or not? Antek hasn't much time left."

"Let's get one thing straight!" The Count's gaze wandered from Uther to Merlin and back. "Arthur will live if you save my son's life or he will die with him. His freedom is not part of the bargain. He is _mine_, forever." He smiled into Merlin's pale face. "And as we could see a second ago, even your impressive abilities will not be faster than my grip on our young friend. Besides, I dare say that your sorcery wouldn't be quicker than Badagere could cut into this artery." Merlin saw the sword point once more press into the exposed throat and swallowed hard.

Llanfair enjoyed his apparent victory. "Surely you both realize that in truth I need neither these restraints nor the sword to control him." The young warlock tensed when the lunatic's hand once more approached his friend's chin to force his face up again. Even with the former mental connection broken the horror in Arthur's eyes spoke loudly of what he was going through. He didn't move or yelp now and it was clear enough that he couldn't. When the Count let go Arthur bent his head to hide his face. Badagere didn't hold him back but the sword point didn't waver at all.

From the twitching of his son's shoulder blades Uther could see that he tried to suppress a sob. All of a sudden the King remembered the situation in the garret, the day before he had forced Arthur to ride off to Llanfair. _This_ was what a father had wanted to see from his son. Real remorse, humility, even solid fear and tears would have been in order. "Be careful what you wish for, fate could be cruel enough to grant it to you." Arenboarth's words, spoken so many years ago when Uther had first uttered his wish to have a son from Igraine with the help of magic. With a vitriolic, burning shame Uther thought what the Lord Druid's verdict would be now. "You didn't love your wife enough to put her life above your wish for a son and you didn't love this son enough to put him above your selfish pride."

Llanfair saw that they had surrendered and he found his casual demeanour again. "Well then, maybe it's time we all remembered why we actually came here. There is still the little matter of my son's life."

For the first time Merlin approached the young man who was lying on the bed, dead still and with an already waxen face. He saw the damage his magic had caused. Albeit his confidence was badly shaken by the easiness with which Llanfair had fought him off so far he saw no other chance but to proceed as originally planned.

"I would need a personal item from Uther, to create the bridge between his life and Antek's. Once the bridge is established, Antek will drain the vital energy from the chosen sacrifice until the victim is dead. It will be a slow process but at its end the young Count will be completely recovered." He heard a soft moan behind his back and some movement. Llanfair turned around briefly and the struggle ceased.

Merlin almost flinched when he felt Uther's hand on his shoulder. "Let's begin" he said hoarsely. "I have only a last request to you, My Lord." The warlock shot a shocked, warning glance at him.

"If you want to ask me to let your son leave this room until it's all over, think again. He has been waiting so long for a reunion with you and now I should be so cruel as to shorten the last precious moments he has with you on this earth?"

Uther shrugged defeated and, with an effort, Merlin gulped down a sigh of relief. "The sacrifice is to be positioned at the right hand side of the bed" he proclaimed pompously, trying to lure them all into an atmosphere of mystery and awe. "He has to pass me his chosen property now."

Uther gave him one of his gloves and Merlin bowed ceremoniously to him. As Llanfair would most probably be obsessed with ritual behaviour the wizard held the glove above his head for a moment, muttering some senseless words in the ancient language. He made sure that the words 'return', 'death', 'life' and 'most noble, royal sacrifice' were audible for everyone who had ever set foot on the Blessed Isle, hoping desperately that he wouldn't accidentally hit on some disastrous spell he had never heard of.

"The sacrifice will now kneel at the right hand side of the one who is to be blessed" Merlin chanted. Uther followed his lead without comment. When the King knelt down Merlin was immensely grateful for the fact that he could neither see nor hear Arthur's reaction to what he was doing. From where the Prince was this had to be a horrible spectacle. Still mumbling mysterious words Merlin moved his hands up and down Antek's body thrice. For emphasis he cast a silent spell for awe and mild fear over the whole room before he turned to Llanfair who watched everything with some tension.

"You are the one who gave first life to the one who is to be blessed with a second existence?"

Llanfair looked bewildered. "You know I am his father!"

Merlin gazed back censoriously. "Then you will give me your chosen property now and kneel at the left hand side of the one who is to be blessed. Your fatherly love is to guide his heart back to you and to the world of the living."

Shrugging the Count took one of his leather gloves from his belt and tossed it to the young warlock before he knelt down on the other side of the bed.

"You will now close your eyes and bent your heads, to concentrate on the soul of the one whom we are trying to bring back to his loved ones." Merlin almost lost his pious and pretentious composure when he saw that Llanfair really complied with his orders.

He inhaled deeply, gripped Uther's glove with his left hand and Llanfair's with his right and then he let real magic flow with all his power. A blue light began to emanate from him and spread out to cover Antek's body. The young man jerked and his so far inaudible, weak breathing became louder and fitful. Two additional streaks of light emanated from the wizards body. Slowly but inevitably they found their way towards the two men who knelt by the bed. Finally all three bodies were covered in light while Merlin spread his arms, still clutching the two gloves in his hands.

Arthur's eyes were fixed on Uther. He saw the light cover his father and inwardly he began to weep. The light which held Uther captive changed colour, from blue to gold, while the other two men were still basking in the blue light Merlin had originally created. Pendragon cursed Merlin's idiocy. "If I ever get the chance I'll kill you, you damned sorcerer." His heart started to race painfully when Uther bent over as if his strength had left him while Llanfair's rigid figure stayed as upright as before. Even the derisive smile he had last shown his life-long enemy was still in his face as if it were frozen there. Knowing his struggle would be as futile as it had been before Arthur nevertheless fought with all his strength to break free from Llanfair's control until he was exhausted. His muscles relaxed as the fight went out of him. "Merlin, please, you can't do this" he thought. "Please stop."

When he felt the pressure of Llanfair's mental hold weaken Arthur thought it to be wishful thinking. He stared at the old Count's rigid figure. Suddenly Llanfair's frozen face wasn't a sign of strength any more. The Prince did not dare to trust his feelings but, bit by bit, he felt that it was now his captor who fought for control and perseverance. Arthur gazed at the golden light which covered Uther's body entirely. What if...? The moment he felt Llanfair lose control he tried once again to break free from the monster's hold and this time he succeeded. Llanfair's presence in his mind was replaced by Merlin's strained but utterly comforting voice. "Don't be afraid. Keep quiet until I'm finished here. Don't let this knight see that Llanfair has lost control."

The Prince almost bent over with relief. Although he still was tied up and gagged it was pure joy to be released from the old Count's unnatural, humiliating grip on his very soul. Whatever happened now, it couldn't be worse than that.

Merlin completed the bridge between Llanfair and Antek. Too late the old wolf had noticed what the magician was doing and his patchwork knowledge of magic hadn't been sufficient to fight off Merlin's attack. Now every breath of air Antek took drained old Llanfair's vital energy. Slowly but surely Antek was unwittingly killing his father with his own struggle back to life. It would last for many hours and was irreversible. In the merciless grip of his increasing mortal agony the Count wouldn't be able to exercise the Di'inshara's power over Arthur. With a last effort Merlin strengthened the protective spell he had cast over Uther to shield him from the devastating effect of the extended and reversed death spell which kept the two Llanfairs captive.

Merlin darted around, ready to crush Badagere in an instant but what he saw brought him to a dead halt. The knight had pulled his captive to his feet. A knife had replaced the sword and with full clarity Merlin realized that he had no chance whatsoever to beat this knife. He groaned with frustrated anger and heard Uther do almost the same at the sight of his son being once more out of reach.

"Is he dead?" Badagere asked, pointing with his chin at Llanfair.

"As good as" Merlin replied hesitatingly. "Look, you can't help him anymore and your young Lord won't thank you for killing the Prince for nothing so why don't you….."

"Shut up" the knight snapped and Merlin fleetingly wondered how the man's voice changed that easily between being impressive and squeaking.

Badagere continued before Uther could say something. "If I were you I wouldn't endanger your whelp's life now, after you went to such ends to save him. Arthur and I will leave now, nice and easy. You will give us five minutes before you will follow me. I'll wait for you downstairs to give you further instructions. Understood?

The King's hands opened and closed like claws but he nodded. Badagere dragged his captive towards the door and, the knife pressing harder into the skin, opened it with his other hand. As soon as it had closed after him and his hostage, Merlin jumped to follow them.

"Wait!" Uther grabbed the warlock's shoulder. "We'll do as he said. No use to take unnecessary risks now."

Merlin stared at the bed where the Count's life was running away, bit by bit, while Antek's face regained colour and his breathing became stronger and stronger. Tomorrow's sunset would see the completion of the circle. The bridge would collapse and the Count would be finally dead. Suddenly the monstrosity of what he had done overwhelmed the young wizard. He would never be the same again. He had done evil. He _was_ evil, just like Cornelius Sigan! Arenboarth, Mirella, even Gaius would turn their backs on him. Arenboarth had said it; he was tainted now, contaminated. Nobody would ever speak to him again. He had no place left to go, except…

"What is it?" Uther saw the young man stare at him with wide eyes.

"You do believe me now, don't you?" Merlin stammered. "You do, don't you? You will not condemn me anymore. Please, I must get out of here."

Uther was once more overtaxed with the sudden change from godlike power to trembling oversensitivity. "Wizards" he thought desperately. He shook Merlin violently. "Boy, don't fail me now. That's the wrong moment to indulge your weak nerves. Arthur needs you! _I_ need you! Just a few minutes more and I will bring you out of this accursed stronghold, I promise."

"Re…re….really? You do still need me?

Uther was at his wits' end of how to cope with that. A second longer and the almighty warlock would start crying. "Come on, its time". Hoping that the sense of self-preservation would reactivate the magician's s power if necessary he just pushed Merlin through the door without so much as looking for guards or other possible enemies. Other than Merlin he felt no regret at the sight in the bed-corner. "Sweet dreams, old wolf" he thought while he closed the door and followed Merlin.

Miraculously the corridor was completely deserted. They ran towards another door which had been left open, hoping that it was a trace as to where Badagere had vanished. Behind the door they found a narrow stairway which led down, most probably to one of the side yards they had seen when they rode in. Without thinking Merlin ran down and Uther followed him until he bumped into someone.

"Father!" Stunned by surprise and disbelieve Uther felt himself hugged fiercely by his son.


	20. Premature relief

**20 Premature relief**

To his own embarrassment the King felt jealous when Arthur let go of him to be fiercely embraced by Merlin. "Dear Gods, I thought I'd never see you again."

"Me too."

Luckily it was quickly over. "Let's get out of here." Arthur went to a small door in the castle wall which looked neglected. "Badagere said we may have 15 minutes at best before anyone will find out that the Count is….indisposed."

"He let you go, just like that?" The King couldn't believe it.

"He send the guards in the corrridor away and he untied me as soon as we came here. He... but I'll explain everything later." Arthur pushed the door open and vanished into the small passage behind it. They unbolted a second door on the other side of the passage and found themselves outside the castle walls, with a meadow to cross under the very eyes of the castle guards and bowmen on the battlement before they would reach the shelter of the forest.

"Merlin, can you do something about them?" Uther found his son's casual handling of the wizard somewhat disturbing. So Arthur _had_ known of his manservant's magic abilities for some time before Merlin had been arrested by the King.

"No problem!" The warlock's eyes flashed golden and he just ran off. "Follow me."

As Arthur just ran after his friend Uther had no other option but to follow suit. They reached the forest and darted under the trees, only to find themselves being apprehended by Arenboarth's group. Arthur was immediately swallowed by a mass of enthusiastic hugs with Merlin merrily hopping around in the crowd with him.

Uther found himself somewhat pushed aside. Arenboarth spotted him and joined him. "Congratulations, Uther. I never dared to believe you'd make it back safe, all three of you. Seems as if you were the better strategist after all."

Uther jumped alarmed at the sound of Blackrock's alarm bells but the Lord Druid only shrugged dismissively. "Don't worry. Now that you are with us, they could stumble over your feet without seeing or hearing you."

Arenboarth saw Uther's face when he looked over to the merry crowd once more. The Prince had seemingly lost himself in Guinivere's embrace while Leon was bear-hugged by Mirella. "It's hard to accept that they have a life of their own, isn't it?" the Druid said sympathetically.

"I'll never win him back! I've lost him" Uther suddenly said with utter certainty. Without another word he vanished into the brushwood, towards the place he could hear some horses pant. He had been gone for half an hour when Arthur came looking for him. It took the Lord Druid some persuasion to convince the Prince to give his father some peace before the great reunion. What finally won Arthur over was the argument that Uther would have trouble to cope with the emotionality of the occasion.

Therefore Uther wasn't disturbed while he lay in his tent and listened to the friendly commotion that went on an hour or two after the bulk of the group had reached the main camp. Naturally the Druids were all curiosity for the young man they knew next to nothing about except that their remote leader had been willing to bent his iron rules for the rescue of the son of the Druids' sworn enemy. Even to shelter this mortal enemy himself.

Only now, knowing that Arthur was safe, the King began to think about what was waiting for him in Camelot and he realized that his world had been shattered around him. Camelot's power and safety were significantly reduced, most of all by the loss in territory and money. The border countries' return to the Crown was imperative but what if young Count Antek was to bear, well, let's say, a minor grudge against the people who had murdered his father? With which army Camelot should re-conquer the territories? Who should be the Commander of such an expedition? There was only one thing Uther knew for sure: It wouldn't be Arthur. No matter what he said or did, he wouldn't set foot on Llanfair land again, ever.

To regain Camelot's trust and the royal authority wouldn't be exactly easy either. To lift the ban on magic after the severity with which he had pushed the law through, over and over again, to return home with a convicted sorcerer in tow, a sorcerer who doubtlessly was the hero of the day - it was all difficult and awkward enough. But additionally Camelot's Head Knight, from a family of ancient nobility, would return with a Druid wife and for Arthur's own obvious choice for a Queen……

"Maybe I should abdicate" Uther thought. "Yes, that's the only possible solution. I chuck the whole business and go fishing. I may not have a chance to have my son back but I have successfully raised a future King! Let Arthur see how he muddles through, I quit."

With this, at least momentarily, very comforting decision Uther felt himself slowly drift off to sleep, the relaxing certainty that there wouldn't be any of Llanfair's brutal letters in the morning still in his mind. When something furtively tugged at his sleeve, he shrugged it away. Stupid animal. Unfortunately the tugging didn't stop. Disproportionally enraged by the harmless disturbance Uther jumped to his feet, almost knocking over Merlin in the process. "What the heck is it now? Why aren't you celebrating with the others? Seems to be the thing to do right now, at least for everybody else!"

"I have to speak to you, Your Majesty." Merlin's face was pale and strained.

"For the Gods' Grace, why me? Go and speak with Arthur! After all you did for him he could at least pull himself free of this woman's arms long enough to lend you his most august ear for five minutes! As for my part it's all over!"

"That's the problem, Your Grace. Nothing is over. I killed Llanfair, or as good as, but I didn't break the Di'inshara. It's….dormant for the moment but as soon as Llanfair is dead the bond will come to life. He will try to pull himself back into our world by this bond."

Uther felt the horror he had only just shook off return to him. He refused to let it sink in. Not again. "Then let him" he said. "I give a damn whether he haunts these godforsaken castle walls at night. Let him howl to the moon like the old wolf he was to all eternity for all I care!"

Sadly Merlin shook his head and Uther thought that, if he never were to see this special kind of sadness in these dark blue eyes again, he would consider himself fortunate indeed. This expression seemed to be exclusively reserved for a Pendragon catastrophe.

"With all due respect Your Grace, but you do not understand. The rule is always the same. A life for a life. I killed the Count to give his son's life back and once Llanfair is dead he will use…."

The King surrendered to reality. "My son" he finished Merlin's sentence.

The warlock bent his head and nodded. "Yes. If I can't break the Di'inshara once Llanfair is dead, Arthur will die within two days." Reflexively Merlin tried to explain that he wasn't to blame, at least not entirely. "You see, it wasn't possible to do it all at the same time, to cast a death spell, to protect you and to weaken the bondage Arthur was under sufficiently to get him out of Blackrock. I had somehow hoped that, once we had him out, the Druids could shield him but Arenboarth is affirmative that they can't."

Uther's heart missed a beat when the warlock looked up again. "There would have been only one way to break the Di'inshara for good then and there and I…I didn't think that to be an acceptable option."

"_What_ option?" the King asked albeit he knew he didn't want to hear the answer.

"You remember that Arthur entered the bargain with Llanfair for your life" Merlin began ponderously.

"Yes, what of it?"

"The Count swore that neither he nor his men would kill you. If I had provoked him to take your life, by magical means or otherwise…the deal would have been off."

"Arthur would have been free and you could have finished the old wolf with a blink of your eye." Uther felt his stomach turn. "Why didn't you do it?" he said. "I never really thought I'd go back home anyway. After all I did to you, why on earth did you endanger your friend's life once more for _me_?"

"Your son loves you" Merlin replied stubbornly. "He needs you. And I have sworn to bring you both out of this."

"And how does the great master sorcerer intend to do that?"

Merlin shrugged. "It's simple, really. As soon as Arthur shows the first symptoms I will go back to Blackrock as fast as I can and I will try…., I mean, I will finish what I started. I know how. It took some persuasion but in the end Arenboarth told me, on the condition that I never…. But that's not important right now."

"I bet it is. It wouldn't be that the high and mighty Lord Druid said that you'd never be able to come back to the Druids, would it?"

Merlin was a picture of misery when he nodded.

"Well, we shall see about that!" Uther was already on his way out but the warlock blocked his path.

"You mustn't quarrel with him, he only does what he thinks is right. Besides, we need him. However feeble the protection is he can offer to Arthur, it'll be better than nothing."

"Then what's my part in this ugly business? I take it you have reserved a part for me too?"

"It's important that you stay with your son as long as it takes me to defeat Llanfair. You and Arenboarth. And if I should fail… I mean if the Count should regain full control over the Di'inshara, I mean….. in the unlikely event that this would happen I would want you to…"

Uther was at the end of his tether. "For heaven's sake, spit it out!"

"I would want you to kill your son quickly before Llanfair can do it slowly. Nobody should die that way and I'll never forgive myself that I inflicted this horrible death on Llanfair, whether he deserved it or not. Let Arthur die with his soul being free."

Pendragon stared back at the young man for a second. Against his will he imagined the picture of the King of Camelot lifting his blade to take his son's life. "This is too much" he thought. "No one can demand this of me!"

"Does my son know?" he asked.

Merlin shrugged. "He didn't say anything but I think he guesses what is about to happen! I could see all the while that he was scared, very scared, for all his smiles and enthusiasm. I could always see how he really feels, right from the beginning."

"Yes, _you_ could, but his father?" Uther shook off the unwelcome thought. "All right then, I promise I won't let him fall into the monster's hands again."

Only when Merlin had left the tent Pendragon allowed himself to fall down on the ground and cover his head with his arms.


	21. Final confrontations

**21 Final confrontations**

As Merlin had predicted Llanfair died at sunset of the following day in the very second Antek opened his eyes. Backed up by Badagere, who immediately took command, Merco used the opportunity to sedate the young Count for another night, to rush through the old wolf's funeral with appalling haste and lack of ceremony.

As soon as Antek came to he was told the sad news that his father had been killed by a Pendragon blade and that the prisoners had escaped. At a loss for another explanation Merco declared Antek's recovery to be a miracle and the young Count, although he doubted the theory very much, left it at that. Antek felt ashamed at the relief his father's death and Arthur's safe escape gave him, but the feeling was only a fleeting one.

He detached a messenger to Camelot at once, to wait for the Pendragon's return. The sooner Uther got back the ransom together with a most humble apology of the new Count of Llanfair the sooner negotiations on the border countries' future could begin. Arthur with his pragmatic sense for necessities would see to it.

Together with Merco, who was beside himself with joy at his beloved lord's accession to the earldom, Antek visited Lucius' grave. It was horrible that his mad father in his last ravings should have killed the man who had taught Antek his first tricks with a sword. Reluctantly Antek asked Badagere to accompany him to his father's burial site but the knight didn't find it too difficult to persuade his young master to postpone the visit.

Thoroughly exhausted after his first full working day in his new capacity Antek went to his rooms. He undressed and washed alone, as was his habit, thinking all the time about an acceptable solution for his negotiations with Camelot. He turned towards his bed and froze. A young, dark haired foreigner with blue eyes pointed a sword at him.

"How on earth…?" the stunned noble stammered.

"I came through the door. But don't get your hopes up; your guards didn't see me. And if I were you, I'd spare my breath. Scream as much as you like, they won't hear you either."

Antek looked at his sword and knife which lay on a table a few steps from where he stood.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you!" The stranger seemed quite comfortable with the situation.

"But you aren't me!" Antek jumped for his sword and cried out when the simmering hot hilt burned his hand.

"I told you!"

The young Count turned towards his opponent. "Who the devil are you?"

"A magician with a special mission to fulfil and you are going to help me."

Only now Antek noticed the Pendragon crest on the young man's sword. He held it somewhat awkwardly but with his obvious magic abilities it was only decoration anyway. Wait a moment…. A young sorcerer, dark hair, blue eyes and with a Pendragon sword….?

"Merlin!" the young Count cried. "You must be Merlin! Arthur told me a lot about you."

"Oh he did, didn't he?" Merlin snorted derisively. "And if he had refused to share his private life with you what would you have done? Put him in the stocks or beaten him senseless? After all, if one has a Crown Prince for a slave, one has to keep up discipline."

Antek was aghast. "It wasn't like that" he said. "Arthur is my friend."

"Yes, and I bet he could build a temple on your friendship. It must have been a sound feeling if it allowed you to see him kept prisoner for so many months."

The Count gave up for now. "Anyway, he isn't here anymore. He escaped together with King Uther the night my father died."

The warlock shook his head. "I wouldn't be so sure about all that. Frankly, I am here to _make sure_ that Arthur has escaped for good and that your father _stays_ dead. Now take me to his burial site. After that you can go wherever you want but I would strongly advise you to leave the castle at once, along with everybody else."

"Like hell I will" Antek began but then he felt his throat constrict until he couldn't speak any more. With rising panic he struggled for air.

"Let's go" Merlin ordered and the young noble obediently led him out of the room towards the castle vaults. Antek and his captor could have been made of thin air for all the notice the servants or soldiers they encountered took of them.

The nearer they came to the old Count's tomb the more Merlin felt his power dwindle. He cursed himself for not anticipating this. More than once the monster had used the bond between the young warlock and his Prince to fend off Merlin's attacks. Finally he felt that he couldn't go further. He let go of his sword. "Go away, Antek. Leave the castle. _Now_!"

As soon as the aristocrat was free of the magical grip on his throat he turned and ran. Merlin hardly noticed it. Whatever happened he knew that no sword would kill him now. "It's between the two of us, you monster" he whispered while he got down on his knees in the corridor which led to the old Count's grave. "Nobody's going to disturb us; I'll make sure of that."

He concentrated his strength and let his power flow free, albeit not towards the grave or its occupant. The very foundations of the castle began to shake violently. Rifts appeared in the walls and widened. Outside people screamed in terror and fled the buildings as more and more of the weaker inner walls collapsed. The two tallest towers came down immediately after the last soldier had left the magazines they harboured. The battlements trembled as if they were shaken by a giant hand when Antek reached the main yard. He saw even bigger rifts appear in the battlements' foundations as well as in the load-bearing walls of the castle itself and he knew that the stronghold was doomed.

"Out" he shouted as loud as he could. "Leave the castle. Don't take anything, just run!" Some of the soldiers heard and recognized him. For a short time something like order came into the havoc and the guards ushered all people they could get hold of through the main gates. As if by a miracle the passage from the back yards to the main gates was free of debris. It was accessible until the outer wall itself tumbled in.

More frightened than he had ever been before, Antek supported Merco whom he had pulled out of his bed in the very last second. "What is it, what's happening?" The healer was terrified out of his wits.

"I don't know" Antek said. "I have no idea whatsoever!" but in the back of his mind he remembered his father's words. "If Pendragon's hatchling ever goes free no stone of Llanfair will be left standing!"

"My Lord, all are accounted for except Sir Badagere but the people are frightened and don't know what to do."

"I'm coming" Antek said and Merco followed him. After all, neither explanations nor speculations would help .the wounded.

In the Druids' forest camp some other people were also at a loss of what to do. Arthur's temperature rose and he had lost consciousness some hours ago. Gaius watched helplessly. Uther had told him the truth when the physician's despair had overcome his apprehension to speak to his old healer friend.

The King cradled his son in his arms while Arenboarth was at his side, in deep concentration which so far seemed to be completely useless. Gaius, Gwen and Leon sat on the other side of the makeshift shelter. Mirella held Gwen's hand but she doubted that she even felt it.

Uther flinched when he felt his son stir. It took a few more minutes but then Arthur opened his eyes and smiled at his father. Uther smiled back and brushed the sweaty blond hair out of the face. "My boy, thank heaven….." Something happened in Arthur's face. Uther heard him murmur something and bent down to listen.

"You ….will….not ….. have…….the …..better…of ..me, Pendragon. This pathetic …little wizard of yours can't …harm me now. If I am to die…. I will take your son… with me!"

With an outcry Uther let go of the body that no longer belonged to Arthur Pendragon. It was all lost then. He stared down at the foreign smile in the familiar face and tried to pull himself together. His blood was loud in his ears and his heart hammered as he unsheathed his dagger, bent down again and searched for his son's neck pulse. Not a second longer would he allow the beast to misuse this body.

Gwen stopped his hand in the very moment Arenboarth shouted "No!"

The Lord Druid held Uther's hand in a tight grip. "It's much too early for that. He's playing with you, believe me. If Merlin fails, I'll know it! It'll be more than ample time to end it then, before Llanfair can tighten his hold completely!" He turned Uther's face towards his son. "Look at him, he's unconscious again. Llanfair hasn't defeated Merlin yet."

"I can't stand this waiting anymore" Uther yelled.

"Then pass the knife to me if you aren't man enough to protect your son" the Druid yelled back.

It brought the King back to his senses. Silently he settled down on the ground once more and they all began to wait. Again.

Merlin was oblivious to the havoc he had created outside the vault. The only thing he knew was that nobody would come down here. He concentrated his power on his adversary now. As soon as his mind entered the burial chamber he felt the Count fight back. As clearly as if he stood by the barrow he saw the body covered in hastily snatched sheets and the clothes Llanfair had worn the evening he had died. He felt the man's mind struggle against Merlin's attempts to regain control of his limbs and to physically enter the chamber.

The warlock saw the scars and injuries the toying with dark magic that wasn't his own had caused in the old Count's soul. His inability to love someone, his brutality, even his insanity itself – he had paid a high price for his limited access to power. Merlin found glimpses of old memories. A young girl, smiling. Boys playing with their wooden swords. Antek's birth. But they were all marred, like pictures which had been smeared with pitch.

Merlin gritted his teeth when he touched the live bond between the sick soul and Arthur. Briefly his friend's emotions, so far an undercurrent in his mind, threatened to overwhelm him before he found a way to shut off the strongest parts of them. "Hang on, Arthur, just a little bit longer."

The sorcerer renewed his attempts to circumvent Llanfair's blockade. He even found some strength he hadn't thrown into the fight until now. He upheld his concentration until sweat covered his whole body. Still the other mind didn't give way. Draining strength directly from his captive Llanfair actually managed to form words in Merlin's mind. "Whatever you do, you will not prevent your friend's death! I will show it to you."

Slowly but surely Merlin felt his strength fail and his concentration slip. Beginning panic weakened his attack further. Once more Llanfair breached through his defences to show him that he had begun his attempt to use the Di'inshara bond to create a bridge between him and Arthur, just like Merlin had done between the Count and Antek.

"No!" Merlin shouted in his mind. "I won't let you do this."

He was far too deep in his trance to feel someone pass him by and enter the burial chamber.

Badagere looked down at the corpse. "There is no peace from you" he muttered. "Whom you once had in your claws you must and will destroy. It's in your nature. I knew it when we were friends back on the Blessed Isle. I knew it when I stole this cursed book for you from Arenboarth's forbidden library. I knew it when you destroyed my life, step by step, until I was a puppet in your hand."

Slowly, very slowly the dead man's head seemed to turn towards the knight until the unnaturally gleaming eyes looked at Badagere.

The knight stepped nearer to the body and returned the intent stare without blinking. ""Do you remember my sister?" he continued his monologue. "Or my wife? You should, _my friend_! They are on your conscience as much as they are on mine. How flattered I was when you married my sister after Igraine had ditched you. I believed in this riding accident as much as you believed in my wife's fall from the stairs the day after you had told me that she cuckold me. Now you have dug your claws into young Pendragon and whatever this little sorcerer outside thinks he's doing, it won't help in the end. But you have forgotten one important thing, you monster. I've read the book too."

Out of the folds of his light blue coat he produced the same knife Llanfair had used during the Di'inshara. "You gave it to me with your own hands, after you had finished tormenting the boy. It was a stupid thing to do." He lifted the knife and rammed it into Llanfair's heart with all his power. An unearthly howl echoed through the chamber and Llanfair's hand grabbed Badagere's throat when the knight retrieved the blade. Badagere stabbed into the heart a second time and withdrew the blade once more with both hands. His eyes bulged out and his hands began to shake. Llanfair's hand squeezed harder. Cartilage and bones broke. Dying the knight toppled over and the dead weight of his heavy body drove the knife home a third time. Llanfair's body twisted on the barrow. The hands scratched on the wood in a futile attempt to hold on to something. After that, silence filled the burial chamber. The final silence of death.

Outside Merlin struggled to come to his feet. He stumbled blindly through the vaults, then through the debris of the destroyed castle before his legs gave in underneath him and he fell down.

"Uther, look." Gaius' voice startled the King. "It's over. Dear Gods, it's really over. Merlin must have won." After one furtive look at his son Pendragon jumped to his feet. Arenboarth laid his hand on Arthur's forehead and exhaled sharply. He nodded. "It's true! I no longer sense Llanfair's presence. The Di'inshara has been broken. Arthur is free!" He had to repeat it three or four times before the message sank in.

While the others showed their joy and relief rather openly, Uther only stared at his son's now peaceful face. "If it's over, why doesn't he wake up?"

"Yes, My Lord and why doesn't he begin to train some new knights this afternoon or wins a tournament." Gaius rolled his eyes skywards. "He's had fever. He has to sleep it off." After a look at their grey, haggard faces he continued. "And so have we. Out now everybody. My patient and I need absolute quiet and rest."

Uther, still not completely back from another world, protested when he saw that Gwen stayed inside the shelter. "Why does she...? he asked bewildered.

"I'll explain these things to you when you are grown up. Now go and sleep until your senses have come back to you." Gaius pushed him out.

Outside the King racked his tired brain for something very important he had forgotten. Then it came to him. Merlin! He should be there when Arthur came to, just in case that….. Well, in any case.

On his arrival at the horses' stand Uther ran once more into Gaius. Both men didn't say a word when they mounted and rode off together.

"Oh, my goodness!" Uther reined in his horse sharply as soon as he reached the forest edge

It was unbelievable. The devastation was horrible. Blackrock castle had virtually crumbled. People and animals wandered around while others tried to build some preliminary shelters. Uther saw a young man among the soldiers who shouted orders to bring the chaos under control. Thinking of Antek's presumable mood and state of mind the King thought it better to postpone his first personal encounter with the new Count Llanfair to a later, more befitting occasion.

Grateful for their unobtrusive clothing the two men sought their way towards the field of debris in search of the young magician. Both hoped that Merlin wasn't in the makeshift camp Antek was erecting. Somehow they both knew that this devastation had been caused by the sorcerer and that the young Count wouldn't harbour very friendly feelings for him.

"Over there!" Gaius shouted it and Uther saw what the physician had seen. Something brown and red between the grey dusty debris in what once had been Blackrock's main yard. Stumbling and jumping they made their way towards the body that lay motionless on the ground. Uther reached him first.

"Is he dead?" Gaius panted

Uther felt for the young man's pulse. "He's alive, Gaius, his pulse is steady."

The physician knelt down beside him with a more than angry frown. "Since when do you know anything about such things? Go out of my way." However a short examination of his nephew confirmed Uther's diagnosis. Merlin was totally exhausted but otherwise he seemed to be all right. Like his princely friend he suffered from nothing that couldn't be cured by a few days' rest. Grumbling the old healer tried to lift the young man.

After a few futile attempts Uther couldn't stand the pitiful sight any more. "Oh for heaven's sake, leave him alone before you break his neck" he said impatiently, lifted the magician with both arms and carried him to his horse. They made it back to the Druids undetected by Antek's men.

The first one to greet them back was a very alarmed and worried Prince. "Merlin!" Arthur caught his friend when he slipped off the horse, clumsier than ever.

"Hi, Arthur, nice to see you" Merlin mumbled before his eyes closed again and he fell asleep where he stood – or rather hung – in the Prince's arms.

"Gaius, what ails him?" Arthur was far too anxious to realize that someone else was also standing at his side.

"Nothing, Sire. He's fine. He just needs rest, that's all." The physician saw a storm brewing up. A Pendragon storm. "Maybe I should bring him to my tent now."

"Let me do that" Arthur made no bones about it and carried Merlin to Gaius' tent. With an apologizing look to Uther the physician bustled after him.

Uther watched his son's back disappearing between the tents and swallowed hard. "Looks as if I am dismissed from His Highnesses' presence." He had only whispered it to himself but Arenbaorth had heard it nonetheless.

"If I were in your boots, Uther, I'd follow him and have a real long talk with him, right now. Let the odds be in your son's favour for once. He's rested and you are almost sleeping on your feet. I promise, I'll only interfere if there's bloodshed."

The King glared at him but then he became thoughtful. It couldn't go on like that and now was as good a time as any. Besides, this wretched woman for once was nowhere to be seen, Gaius was busy and Merlin was asleep. Optimal conditions for Uther having a chance to be actually _noticed_ by his only son. He tossed the bridles of his horse to Arenboarth and followed Arthur.

As the conversation between father and son took place in a place without solid walls it was a notable occasion for everyone present. Not only did the Druids get some very enlightening insights into the intricacies of Camelot's high politics but also into some rather private details of family history and the Pendragon version of inter-generational conflict. Luckily Leon had lured Guinivere away as soon as he had guessed what was afoot.

In the end, Arthur gave in and it somehow ended as it always ended between these two; with a heart-felt reconciliation that gave Uther the feeling that he had won while Arthur got the satisfaction to be the wiser part of the Pendragon duet. Again, as always, every possible topic had been mentioned in the stormy conversation but nothing had been solved.

Leon's – let alone Arthur's – marriage plans, the best way to convince Camelot that the lifting of the ban of magic wasn't a sign of Uther being senile, the future of the border territories, how to deal with Antek, how to explain Merlin's and Gaius' return (again without using the King's senility as an excuse), the money, the army, the people – nothing was clearer after the storm than it had been before. However both Pendragons thought that they had organised it all rather nicely and that absolutely nothing hindered them and their friends to return home in glory.

In the years to come Merlin would never forgive himself that he had slept through it all. Guinivere would be allowed to stay in a blissful state of ignorance of Uther's first opinion of her. Fortunately for him, Leon, who returned after he had left her with Mirella, had a thick skin and a short memory.

The evening before they would all start their journey home, Arenboarth and Gaius walked through the forest for the last time.

"I don't think we'll ever meet again, old friend" the Lord Druid said. "I trust Uther that he will end the persecution of the Druids and of the old religion but I don't think he would like to see us roam his city. It was…… satisfying to see someone from the old healers' temple once more."

"It was good for me too" Gaius replied. "But I hope you understand that I will return to Camelot with the others. This life with you was a beautiful experience but it was also an exile. Besides, there is still this prophecy that Merlin and the Pendragons belong together."

The Lord Druid sighed. "After what he did to Llanfair and the destruction of the stronghold Merlin wouldn't be welcomed here anyhow. It was against all our traditions, against everything we hold sacred. I hate to see him go but he has made his decision. His magic will be what he himself is – friend of a King and of a warrior. Arthur seems kind and warm-hearted enough for someone of his station in life but I wouldn't allow him or his attitude to contaminate my people."

Gaius shrugged. "Forgive me My Lord Druid, but I can't see that _your_ attitude did the Blessed Isle much good or that it helped to protect your people so far. And if you will kindly remember, it was Arthur who did most of the suffering that brought you into the comfortable position you are in now. You can demand of Uther whatever you like."

Arenboarth cocked his brow. "Spoken like a true Pendragon" he said sarcastically. "Please do singe us poor mortals with Dragon's breath from a Dragon's heart."

Gaius took his leave with a silent bow. He left the Lord Druid and he didn't look back.

**-****-****- FINIS -**


End file.
